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t-lostinworlds · 4 years

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Not Going Anywhere (Tom Holland)

a/n: finally! lmao. gosh, i haven’t posted a fic in a while and im scared lol. also, i’m sorry for the lack of fics recently, i’ll try and be better with it. anyway, i’m not going to babble any more asdfghjkl hope you guys enjoy this one!

pairing: tom holland x actress!reader warnings: emotional scene, blood (fake), gun shots (kinda fake), character death (very fake lmao), lots of crying, and tom just being a wholesome boyfriend. word count: 7.5k+ requested:

first off, thank you angel! 💓 you’re too sweet omg 🥺 requests are a bit tricky for me ‘cause it depends if i get inspo or not but i did with this one haha so second, i’m so sorry this took soooo long. i hope i did it justice and that you like it love!

masterlist on bio & pinned post

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It was the last scene of the day but neither you nor Tom were too keen on it. Both of you read the script, of course you knew this was a long time coming. This scene has been sitting in the back of your heads from the moment you both decided to take on the roles but still, it never really does prepare you mentally no matter how much you try.

Death scenes are always tricky to shoot, depending on what the undertone is. It can be a slightly easy one, the death of an enemy in which you'd channel relief, pride, a sense of accomplishment—maybe even in a sadistic, evil sense, happiness and joy. Or it can go around the hard route, the death of someone you love. There are so many ways you could go about it, so many emotions you can tap into. You can have regret, guilt, hurt, sadness, anger, fear, loss, and the list goes on.

It would've been easier to act it out with a regular colleague or a friend, easier to separate from reality and to snap out of it when they call cut. It'd be less daunting if that was the case. But when it's done with someone who you love off screen, a person who you can't ever imagine a world without, to get your mind to a place where you'd have to picture losing them, then it gets even trickier, much, much harder.

Couples don't usually do movies together that often, it can become unprofessional as some would say, but that wasn't the case with you and Tom. Both of you have been praised so many times with your individual works as you two can stand alone and carry a role with nothing but award winning performances. But whenever you two share a screen together, then it's an even bigger force to be reckoned with.

It's always a director's dream to work with you individually and as a pair. You were a match made in heaven off and on screen, the one-take-wonder duo. You two just bounce off each other so well no matter the roles you play, may it be enemies, acquaintances, lovers, past lovers, co-workers, and so on. You two share a look and it all clicks, then everything just falls into place.

You two get it done right away in the right way.

You love working with Tom, love seeing him do his thing in the flesh and you enjoy watching all the breathtaking and raw performance he gives. Plus, you get to spend time with your man, a gift with how conflicting your schedules can get sometimes. Not to mention, you get to do what you love together, a fun time on set as you make the most out of it while staying at the top of your game, be each other's cheerleader while maintaining proper professionalism.

But when it's heavy and emotional scenes like this upcoming one, you do find yourself wishing that it wasn't with him.

"How do I look? Still gorgeous I hope," Tom joked the moment you entered the set, posing over dramatically with one hand on his head, the other on his jutted out hip and a duck face to match, sporting his dirt—with specks of blood—covered and torn outfit. What he wore was a white shirt, black pants, black boots and a gray coat combo. While you on the other hand, wore dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, a gray zip up hoodie that was fully open and a black leather jacket over it.

On a normal day, his silliness would've made you roll your eyes with a laugh, but today, it didn't even manage to make you crack a smile. In fact, a frown made its way onto your lips at the sight of him all dirtied up, a purple bruise under his left eye, a couple gashes on his cheek and a cut on his bottom lip to complete his beat-up look.

"Stop trying to ruin my Zen," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout on your lips. It was already dark inside your mind, emotions at the ready for when they call action. And seeing him be his dorky self, trying his best to make you laugh, just being the sweet boy who owns your heart, it wasn't at all helpful in a sense that with what's coming, it makes you think what life would be like if those adorable traits of his would become a memo—

"I'm not," Tom chuckled softly as he slowly made his way over to you. Once he reached a close proximity, his warm palm found its way to rest on your cheek. His touch was gentle, thumb caressing your skin comfortingly, a loving smile making its way onto his lip as he kept his gaze steady on your troubled face. "Just making sure you don't get too into your head, darling."

Tom's eyes held nothing but utter concern because he knows you like the back of his hand, knows how you work. With actors, it's always taxing mentally and emotionally when it comes to scenes like this, but with you, there's an added weight. Because, one, you always go that extra mile, to dig much deeper into your thoughts, to make your brain work harder at channeling emotions on command and in a quick switch. That's what made you known to be such an incredible actress, pure talent mixed with hard work of course.

And two, you were doing the scene with him, your real life lover. For you to see his face and watch him slowly wither away, Tom can't even stomach the thought of what you could possibly be feeling, what kind of thoughts were swimming inside your head. He can't even begin to imagine if it was the other way around. He absolutely admires your strength for holding it together because if it was him, he would've already been balling before he could even get out of his trailer.

With that said, Tom was worried to the bone. It always pains him to see the struggle you go through to get your mind there. He hates seeing you in a state that wasn't pure happiness, even if it was all acting.

"It's really hard not to," you whispered, flashing him a small smile as you leaned into his touch. Tom's heart broke at the soft shake in your voice, a sigh coming out of his lips as he moved closer to press it against your forehead. His strong arms found their way around your form to give you the warmest hug he can muster without getting all the dirt and the little bit of fake blood he had on him, on you.

"I know, angel, I know," he whispered against your skin, giving your waist a gentle and loving squeeze that made you close your eyes with a shaky breath.

Tom has had a fair share of tough, emotional scenes, of course he understood. Some of them were even done with you, though none were as tragic and heavy as to what lies ahead.

He knows how hard it is to not let those dark thoughts cloud most of your mind. He's been guilty of failing at it a couple of times. Some scenes just affected him in real life before he could stop it. Tom so badly didn't want you to experience the same. He doesn't want you to go far too deep for the sake of your mental state, especially with how much worse this scene is going to be compared to previous stuff you've done. But there's not much he can do other than to be there for you to help you get through it and to make sure to snap you out of it before it gets way out of hand.

"You two ready to go?" Jessica, the director, interrupted with a sympathetic smile. You unwillingly broke away from Tom's embrace to give her a small nod.

"Don't think I'll ever be ready but let's get this over and done with," you breathed out. She watched the two of you for a moment, the gloominess in the atmosphere too obvious for anyone to miss. It's always like that with emotional scenes, the set catered to help the actors be in the zone, but it's a lot heavier this time around. When it's a real life couple, the difference is huge.

With a soft, understanding smile, she reached over to you and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Two more minutes and then we start." Jessica nodded at the both of you curtly. You and Tom flashed her grateful smiles to which she gladly returned.

Once she walked away, Tom's gaze landed back on you, slight dread and concern glowing in his eyes but a reassuring grin played on his lips. He was trying his best to stay calm about it, even though he wasn't looking forward to it as well. He just didn't want to add more to your already worrying mind by looking too frantic with his concern.

"Come here and give me one last kiss."

"Don't say it like that," you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his choice of words weren't exactly the best.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, darling," Tom rushed once he realized how it sounded like, rubbing your arms comfortingly and giving it a gentle squeeze, silently urging you to look at him. Once you opened your eyes and met his gaze again, he tilted his head to the side with an adorable pout. "Can I have a kiss? Pwetty please?"

You shook your head at your man with a sigh, the corners of your lips lifting just a little as you met him halfway for a short but sweet, loving kiss.

"You've got this, okay?" he whispered once you pulled away, his breath hot against your lips as the tip of his nose nudged yours tenderly. You flashed him a small yet thankful smile, nodding in response before leaning close again to give him a quick peck.

"Places you two!" Jessica called out.

Tom's hands found yours, his fingers delicate as he lifted them up to his lips, a kiss on each of your knuckles and another reassuring squeeze before he lets you go.

You treaded your way towards your first marker, Tom's just a couple feet behind you. You looked over your shoulder in hopes to find his eyes before everything starts, a wash of relief coating your body once you saw that it was already set on you. You two shared a look, Tom flashing you one of his many charming grins—one that you adore so much—in reassurance, throwing in a thumbs up as he put his right foot forward. You did just the same, only breaking his gaze when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder.

You turned to one of the crew who handed you a Glock filled with blanks, a soft thanks escaping your lips followed by a deep intake of breath. You closed your eyes before exhaling slowly, clenching and unclenching your fist around the gun as you slowly slipped into character.

The two of you were undercover agents, partners turned recent lovers to be specific. The start of the scene was that you've just managed to get Tom out from his unfortunate capture, the abandoned warehouse where he was kept and you just escaped from, situated behind. You've managed to take out all the guys in the warehouse together but you have no idea if someone had called in backup so it was needed and safer to get as far away from the place as soon as possible. Hence why you two are going to be running from point A to B. But once you reach point B, then the scene happens.

"Ready and action!"

You took on a sprint, chest heaving as you kept looking back to make sure Tom was following. He was running just loosely behind you, a slight limp in his movements given that he isn't in the best of conditions due to the kidnapping.

"Come on!" You slowed down a little to wait for him, offering out a hand for him to take. He was so close to reaching it when his gaze shifted from your hand to somewhere behind you, eyes widening at the sight.

"Look out!" Tom exclaimed, hand quick to grab your outstretched one to pull you into his body. Both his arms wrapped around you tightly as he turned around in one swift motion so that your places were now switched. Then you heard five deafening gun shots, Tom's body jerking the same number of times before he slowly leaned forwards, his body getting heavier as his weight slowly rested more on you.

"No!" you shrieked, one hand wrapping around his torso as you lifted the other one hurriedly to aim your gun at the armed person behind him, pulling the trigger a couple of times to let loose of the blanks. You heard a thud next, an indication that the person has been taken care of.

Tom's whole body slumped, you struggling to hold his weight as he gradually slipped from your grasp, your heart beating rapidly against your chest when you felt something damp coat your fingers that were rested on his back. Your gaze landed on his face with wide eyes, calling out his character's name a few times as you tried your best to let him down on the pavement as gently as you can manage.

Tears welled up in your orbs, your throat closing up as you kneeled beside his body, anxiously checking to see what was wrong even though you already knew that everything was wrong. You took off your jacket hurriedly, bunching it up and placing it under his head for support. A sharp pain squeezed at your heart at the sight of him struggling to breathe, coughing out blood while he willed his eyes to stay open, his white shirt slowly turning crimson.

"No, no, no," you croaked, letting go of the gun to cup his face, fingers trembling as you tried to keep his head steady. Frantically, you reached into your pocket with your free, blood-covered, shaking hand, taking out the phone and hastily dialed zero to send out a distress signal.

Tom lets out a groan laced with pain as his eyes scanned your face, muttering out your character's name to get your attention, voice barely audible.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm right here," you whispered as you met his brown orbs, a soft smile on your lips as you dropped the phone so you can tend to him with both hands. You brushed away the hair that managed to stick on his sweat-littered forehead, his blood from your hand tainting his crown, not the best of sights to see.

Tom's eyes started to gloss up as he kept letting out ragged breaths. You let out a broken sob as the heartrending sound filled up your ears, squeezing agonizingly at each vein in your heart. "S-Stay with me, please," you stammered, his skin turning a bit colder against your warm palm, your breathing turning shallow as you struggled to keep your own self together.

"Help! Please help!" you wailed, looking around the empty place frantically before your gaze landed back on the man in your arms, life slowly slipping from his grasp. "You're going to be okay," you repeated over and over, unsure if the words were said to reassure him or yourself.

The feeling of your jeans getting wet at the knees from the blood that pooled on the ground made you let out a broken cry of despair, eyes scanning his body for only a moment, the sight of red making you want to hurl. And you were too scared to look away from his eyes for far too long, scared that things will take a drastic turn in a split second.

Slowly, weakly, Tom lifted a hand up to cup your damp cheek, thumb caressing your skin as a small, tired smile made its way onto his lips. This made you cry even harder, your nimble fingers curling around his wrist, turning your head slightly for a second to give his palm a warm kiss.

"R-Remember when I-I said I'd t-take a bullet for y-you?" he sputtered, though the smile on his lips was still there, charming as always, his thumb capturing the tear that escaped your eye before it could have the chance to land on your skin.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress a whimper, shaking your head at his ability to make light of the situation. You let out a shaky breath. "I do, I remember. To prove how much I mean to you even when it's not necessary."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, running his thumb over your cheek, a few tears escaping his eyes as he scanned your gorgeous face distorted in utter distress, as he stared at the pain that glowed inside your beautiful orbs.

"N-No, there's nothing to apologize," you breathed out, your thumb grazing the apples of his cheeks as you stared right into those brown eyes you've grown to adore and more. "You saved me," you sobbed, flashing him a small smile laced with gratitude. "You saved me."

Tom nodded slowly with a hum, eyes staring right back at yours with the utmost adoration coating them, although in a few short seconds, it was quick to be replaced by worry. "You n-need to g-go," he hissed in pain, his hand grabbing your wrist to try and pry you away from him. It still wasn't safe to stay and he wanted nothing more than for you to be as far from harm, well and alive.

"No! I'm not leaving you here," you protested, a sob tied at the end of your sentence as you took his hand and placed it back on your cheek. And he held it there, channeling all the strength he had left for him to feel your skin for a couple moments more. "Help is on the way just, s-stay with me," you croaked.

Tom's breathing started to turn labored, his head falling back gradually as there was not much strength left for him to keep it still. "Hey! h-hey, look at me," you rushed, command in your tone as you went to hold his face with both hands, keeping his head steady only to see that his eyes were slowly fluttering close. "Keep those eyes open! Keep those eyes open," you said through gritted teeth, your man listening to your voice that was filled with desperation as he met your gaze again.

"P-Promise me—" Tom interrupted himself with a cough of blood, letting out a soft groan before his eyes were back on yours. "Promise me, y-you'll find h-happiness."

"N-no, don't say that, you're going to be okay." You shook your head desperately with a whimper.

"Promise me," he repeated, voice firmer this time.

Your bottom lip trembled. "I promise, just h-hold on, p-please," you choked. "Somebody! Please h-help! Please!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, urgently looking towards nothing, a sob following suit as your voice broke, hope slowly leaving you.

"H-hey, sweetheart, l-look at me," Tom called out as he tapped your cheek weakly. A whimper escaped your lips as you met his gaze once again, the emotion that shined in them so clear as day. He knows that it was time, and the certain look he was giving you made you understood. Although, you still shook your head in pure denial, muttering protests after protests under your breath as you gave his hand that rested on your cheek a tight squeeze while you kept the other steady on his face, horrified to let go even for a split second for he might be gone when you do.

"I love you," Tom breathed out, voice soft but the truth loud and clear. It was the first time he had uttered those three words, and you so wished it was done in a much, much more different circumstance. You leaned down to swiftly capture his lips in a bitter-sweet kiss, a sigh coming out of him only to be mirrored by a soft cry from you.

"I love you too, oh so much," you whispered to no one but him and him only, pulling away to meet his eyes, a certain glow now coating them at the sound of those lovely words filling up his ears. A satisfied smile made its way onto Tom's lips, his eyes locked with yours, glowing with utmost love.

But as Tom took in one deep, sharp breath, you held yours, only letting it out in a form of an excruciating sob once he completely stilled in your arms. His hand slowly slipped away from your face until it fell limp on his side, his chest laying flat, no more sign of any movement.

"No, no, no," you cried, tapping his cheek to get him to move again but to no avail. You shook your head frantically, your tears blurring your vision some more, heart in your throat as the droplets coated his face at a faster pace. "No! P-Please!" you screamed, cupping his face with trembling hands, letting go for a moment to hold his shoulder, shaking him harder in utter anguish. "C-Come back! P-Please! Come back to m-me." Your fingers found its way back to rest on his cheeks as you choked in short breaths, his eyes wide open but already dimmed, those bright, brown beautiful eyes somewhat turned gray.

"Don't leave me please," You croaked out, voice now hoarse from all the crying you've done. "I can't live without you. Please, come back to me," you whispered one last time, taking a few seconds more to stare at his face, looking at him as a flicker of hope coated your eyes for a split second before it completely died out. You dropped your head onto his chest and let out deep, broken sobs, choking in sharp breaths in between each sound that only made things more heart wrenching to hear.

It was so hard for Tom to keep his own tears at bay, a stinging, horrible feeling gripping at his chest as you cried your heart out. To watch the absolute hurt across your beautiful features, the desperation on trying to "bring him back" was too much of a painful sight to see. If he had a choice he would've opted on closing his eyes, but Jessica had specific instructions to keep them open, to make it more realistic, more effective in a sense that it would pull at the viewer's heartstrings a bit more.

But my God it was so hard to watch you be in so much pain and lay completely still, the heartbreaking sound of your sobs, the way you begged, it was absolute torture, especially when he can't do anything about it just yet. And the way your touch was frantic, desperate, it was hurting his heart harshly, agonizingly and he so badly wanted it to end because he can't take any more of just watching you go through so much pain. But most especially, he wanted it to end for your sake.

At the sound of your own cries, lungs burning with your head pounding, ears ringing, chest too tight and filled with utmost pain, you didn't even notice Jessica call out cut. The moment you knew it was all done was when you felt strong arms wrapping around your form that was still shaking with sobs.

"Hey, hey it's okay, it's over darling," Tom rushed as he sat up quickly, prying you away gently so you could meet his eyes. It broke his heart to pieces when he saw the hurt that still coated your orbs, though he was glad to see the relief slowly seeping back in once you blinked away the tears. You finally snapped out of it once you were able to take a good look at him, your bottom lip trembling as you tilted your head to the side, as if to examine if he was actually real. "I'm okay, see?" Tom hummed, voice gentle as he took both your hands and placed one on each of his cheeks, his skin warm against your touch. "I'm here my love."

All you could do was nod with a breath of relief, body falling forwards so you could sink into his arms, not a care in the world about the fake blood that drenched him. You just needed to be close to him.

Tom sighed as he pulled you tighter in his embrace, pressing his warm lip against your crown in the process. "Breath my darling angel, it's over," he murmured, followed by sweet nothings as his hand ran up and down your back comfortingly, your breathing slowly growing calmer at the tender sound of his voice.

You stayed like that on the ground for a minute, Tom only pulling away slightly when he heard footsteps approaching. "Do we need another take?" he asked dreadfully as he saw Jessica make her way over. He desperately didn't want you to go through that all again but it was out of his control. And if another take was needed, he's going to have to ask for an hour break, for your sake.

You lifted your head up just in time to see Jessica shake her head no, gesturing towards the both of you as satisfaction coated her face. "It's already the best for me. I mean, they call you two the one-take-wonder duo for a reason. And I've got tears in the crews' eyes to further prove my point." With a knowing look, she added, "But you two can watch it back if you like."

Tom turned to you, hand going up to wipe the couple more tears that littered your skin, touch sweet and reassuring. "Do you want to?" he asked softly.

You gave out a small nod. "Yeah, maybe I can do things better," you sniffled.

Tom scoffed loudly at that, gawking at you with wide eyes, taking full offence of your own words for you. "Are you kidding me? That was already amazing," he stressed. "Quit being so overly critical of yourself, darling," he added, taking both your hands in his comfortingly.

"Thank you bubba," you whispered, looking at him with an adorable pout, eyes glowing with the utmost gratitude that Tom felt his heart melt ten times over, especially with the nickname.

He flashed you a bright smile. "Now, let's get you off this wet floor." And that he did as he helped you up, pulling you in for another warm hug once you've got your feet under you.

Crew members quickly crowded you both as they helped you out of the now wet hoodie and coat, giving you each some water and two big, black warm jackets to compensate for the cold. You and Tom then made your way over to the director's chair right after.

You now stood beside Tom in front of the monitor as they started to play the clip back. Both your arms were fully wrapped around him, cheek pressed up against his chest as he slung his arm over your shoulder. His heart was turning soft at how adorable you were being, although he felt a sense of worry as well, since it seemed like you were scared to be too far away from him.

Even when they were fussing around the two of you, he saw how you kept giving him a glance, like you were scared to let him out of your sight. And once they were done, you were quick to grab his hand, as if you didn't want to feel the absence of his touch for far too long. So, he made sure to keep you as close as he can, giving you random kisses and squeezes in comfort from time to time, to reassure your mind that he was, in fact, here.

"Whew, look at you go," Tom praised, staring in pure awe at the monitor as he rewatched your performance, giving your arm a loving squeeze with a kiss on the forehead to match. "You make me look so talentless, love."

"Shut up," you said in pure disagreement given that his performance was breathtaking just as always. He did make things more real, made it hurt even more the way he portrayed dying so well. Your own performance improved because of his. As said in the beginning, you two just bounce off each other so well.

You peeked at the monitor for only short moments as you can't bear to watch it back fully, snuggling into him every once in a while with your eyes fluttering close. Tom was quick to notice this, giving you another peck on the forehead to remind you that it was okay, that things were alright. You hummed at his sweet gesture, squeezing his torso lovingly in return.

"Damn," Tom gushed once the clip ended, wiping away the stray tear that slipped with the back of his hand before turning to you with nothing but utter pride in his eyes. "And the Oscar goes to..."

"Stop," you whined, burying your face on his chest shyly, prompting a hearty chuckle from him.

"One-take-wonder duo I tell you," Jessica admired, giving you both claps on the back before she lifted up her megaphone. "That's a wrap everyone!"

Loud cheers and applause filled the air, Tom giving you a tight, warm hug as you both slowly relaxed in each other's embrace, glad that the day was almost over. You then made your way to where your teams were sat. Both of you were quick to notice how most of them were smiling proudly at the two of you with a bit of shine in their eyes.

"Harry," Tom gasped as soon as his brother came into view, Harry's face red with a faint sniffle coming out of him. "Were you crying?"

"No," the young lad grumbled, turning away in hopes to hide the way he wiped his face but still failing miserably.

"Oh Harry come here," Tom lets go of you for a moment to tackle his brother in a bear hug, making smooching noises as the older sibling tried to give the other a kiss on the cheek, Harry squirming like his life depended on it. You couldn't help the soft laugh from escaping your lips at the sight of the two boys, Tom's head perking up at the sound, a bit of relief coating his features as he tilted his head at you with a smile of his own.

"Get off you div," Harry groaned, pushing Tom away playfully, the older lad laughing before pulling away from him. "It's not my fault you two made it look so real. I genuinely thought Tom died for a second."

"Aw, thanks bro—"

"Correction, Y/N made it so real. The moment you started crying," Harry paused, blowing out his cheeks with a shake of his head, turning to you with both hands up in surrender. "I went."

"Thank you Harry." You shot the young lad a tired but grateful smile, giving him a quick but lovely hug.

"I'll let that pass for now because I do agree," Tom said, shooting his brother a playful glare before he made his way back to you, arms taking home around your waist as he looked at you adoringly. "You were incredible my love."

You smiled at him, leaning closer so you could give him a sweet kiss, just to show more of your gratitude. Tom hummed in pure satisfaction against your lips, giving your waist a tender squeeze before pulling away.

"Let's wrap up the day shall we?"

With that, the two of you made your way over to the wardrobe trailers to get out of the dirty work clothes and into comfier ones. Once out of the trailer, you now wore a pair of black leggings and Tom's pink hoodie to which he insisted on letting you wear over your tank top, given that it was starting to get colder out. He, on the other hand, wore his black sweatpants and a tight maroon t-shirt, handsome as ever but the make up on his face—the bruises, cuts, fake blood—were a bit of a distraction, feeding more thoughts to your still troubled mind.

"Come here, love." Tom beckoned you over once he noticed how you stared at him with a certain look in your eyes and a matching frown. His warm hands found yours, pulling you closer to him so he can give you loving kisses all over your face, all sloppy, loud and sweet. He only stopped when he was satisfied with the little giggles that escaped your lips. "Stop thinking too much, darling."

You flashed him a smile, nodding to say that you understood. "Are you not cold?" you asked in concern, slight guilt swimming in your orbs given that you somewhat stole his hoodie. Tom chuckled with a shake of his head, slinging his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to his side as you then made your way to the make-up trailers.

"As long you're here beside me? My human heater? Never."

***

It was finally time to get back to the hotel.

You and Tom sat at the very back of the van, your head rested on his shoulder while his head rested atop of yours. You've been nothing but silent the whole ride, Tom not pestering you much because he knows you were drained to the bone. He just gave you occasional squeezes on the thigh, his fingers sometimes drumming some random beat just to distract you a little for what was going on inside your mind.

The moment your shared hotel room door closed, lock clicking in the process, Tom dropped your bags on the floor with the loudest sigh of relief.

"Shower together?" Tom offered with a wriggle of his brows, jokingly of course as there was no malice in his intent. You both were too tired for it, a simple shower would suffice.

A sweet smile made its way onto your lips as you nodded, taking up on his offer.

Tom moved over to you to give you a short kiss, mumbling a 'wait here' against your lips before pulling away and disappearing into the bathroom. He came back out not long after sporting nothing but his black boxers, beckoning you over with an open palm to which you gladly took. Hot steam met your skin as you stepped inside the en suite, Tom stopping by the sink as he turned to face you.

"Arms up," he said, your brows furrowing in confusion but you did as told anyway. Once you have both hands in the air, Tom took hold of the hem of your—his—hoodie and lifted it up your body, a pout making its way onto your lips once it was off. He gave your jutted out lip a peck, chuckling at the slight confusion on your face before he went to take your tank top off next.

"I'm not a baby anymore Tom. And I didn't lose any limbs," you pointed out with a soft giggle, top-half now naked in front of him

"Says who? As far as I know, you're still my baby." He shrugged, hooking his fingers on the hem of your leggings and pulling them down—along with your underwear—until he was squatted on the floor. He tapped your thigh lightly, silently telling you to lift each leg up one by one so he can take off the fabric fully. Now, you were left completely bare for him. You looked down at your man and shot him a pointed look, Tom meeting your gaze through his eyelashes as he lets out a sweet chuckle.

"Just let me take care of you love, you've had a long day," he hummed, giving each of your thighs a chaste kiss before he stood back up to his full height. He just wanted to let other things occupy your mind instead, didn't want you to sit too long and think about the scene you just did. Plus, he really did want to just take care of you, to show you the utmost love and affection as you deserve nothing but all and more, especially after today.

Another sweet kiss landed on your lips before he got rid of his boxers next, taking your hand soon after as he guided you inside the glass shower box, pulling you right under the hot water. And take care of you was exactly what he did as he helped you wash up as well. You've told him a couple of times how he was being a bit much, especially when he stole the loofa off your hands to do it himself, shampooed and conditioned your hair. But he simply repeated the same thing over and over:

"Just let me take care of you."

A few more giggles and chuckles with a couple sprinkles of making-out later, you two got out of the shower and dried up. Then after that, Tom gave you one of his shirts to wear—paired with only your panties—and helped you blow dry your hair so you could take a quick nap, an easy breezy task for him since it was not the first time. He's done it before on various occasions.

Once you were soundlessly asleep—after a few more kisses from him as he tucked you in because yes, your boyfriend is extra—Tom took it upon himself to order in some food, that way you'd have something to eat when you wake up, knowing that you probably wouldn't want to go anywhere to have a meal. He sent Harry a text in the process saying that the two of you would be staying in for the night in case the team wanted to go out for dinner.

In his gray sweats and white t-shirt, Tom sat down on the couch right by the window near your side of the bed, pulling out his computer to get a bit of work done while he waits. He didn't want to risk waking you up by slipping in beside you, didn't want to disturb your blissful sleep.

He kept giving you glances from time to time, just to check up on you, his heart growing bigger whenever he does so. Warmth just spreads across his chest each time he sees your beautiful face with nothing but slumber and peace coating your features.

The food arrived about thirty minutes later, Tom setting his laptop down to open the door, room service strolling in with fresh and hot food. He closed the door after he tipped the guy generously, walking over to the table to take some chips off the plate, humming at the wonderful taste.

Opting on letting you sleep for a couple minutes more, Tom went back over to the couch. But just as he was about to sit back down, he heard you let out a troubled groan in your sleep. Surely enough when his gaze landed on you, your face was now contorted in pure distress, brows knitted together as you shifted on the bed, one hand desperately clinging on the pillow while the other on the white sheets.

"Tom!" you yelped and bolted straight up, eyes frantic and chest heaving as you looked around the room for him.

"Hey! Hey." Tom was by your side in an instant, the bed dipping as he sat down, his hands cupping your face gently to make you look at him straight in the eyes. "Darling, hi, I'm here," he whispered with a sweet smile, heart aching at the sight of fear and the fresh sets of tears that now coated your eyes.

Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at him for a couple seconds, moving closer towards him so you could bury yourself in his arms. "I'm sorry," you mumbled against his chest, both your arms wrapping around his torso as you let out uneven, shaky breaths.

"Nothing to apologise for angel. It was just a nightmare," he murmured, rubbing your back sweetly as he swayed you side to side. "It's okay, you're okay." He held you like that for as long as you needed, whispering sweet nothings into your ear in hopes that it'll help you calm down. Tom only loosened his hold around when you softly pulled away, breathing now calmer, sniffling close to none.

"Want to watch a movie while we eat? The chips are really good," he said, both hands now holding your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks tenderly as he wiped away the little tears that sat on your skin. "Spider-Man: Far From Home so we can nitpick and criticize my performance together?" he added jokingly, earning a soft giggle from you as you nodded.

With half of the food gone, you were well into fifteen minutes of the movie. There were a couple of pauses done of course. Now you were snuggled up cozily beside him, your head on his chest as he rested his back against the stacked pillows. He had one arm over your shoulder to keep you close, fingers grazing up and down your arm soothingly while his eyes were set on the screen in front, his warmth comforting you in more ways than one.

The whole pole sequence in Venice was when he felt you start to shift in his arms, a shaky breath coming out of you when you saw him hit that wall as he got drenched in water. And then you spoke,

"Tom, what if—"

"Stop it right now and don't even finish your sentence," he scolded, already knowing where you were going with this. You pulled away from his embrace and sat up straighter just so you could have a full look at him, a deep frown already on your lips.

"You do your own stunts," was all that you said, but Tom already knew what you meant by it, didn't need you to explain further.

With a sigh, he sat up as well, touch tender as he ran it up and down your arms. "Darling, I am being careful with the stunts, you know that. And when it's something too dangerous, you also know that I refuse to do it," he said. "Plus, you're right there to stop me when I'm pushing myself too hard. You're looking out for me too, my love."

Even though you gave him a nod, Tom saw how that still didn't ease your mind, saw it clear in your eyes. He couldn't blame you either knowing how that scene made you think the worse of thoughts. He understood you completely, knowing that if the roles were switched, he would be behaving just the same if not much worse with how overprotective he is of you. He'd probably wrap you in a bubble to be honest, to make sure you're as far away from harm as possible and that nothing was going to happen to you.

"Come here," he hummed, taking your hands and pulling you close until you were straddling his lap, giving your fingers warm kisses before he placed them, flat against his cheeks. Tom's warm palms found their way under his shirt that you wore, settling his hands right on your waist, his thumb running over the swell of your belly fondly, skin touching skin, makes you feel much closer to him.

Tom gaped up at you with nothing but absolute love in his eyes, a glow that's made your heart grow warmer, a look that's added more sincerity to his words. "Nothing's going to happen to me okay? You're going to be stuck with this very handsome face for a long, long time."

You giggled at that, dipping your head so you could capture his lips in a kiss filled with the rawest of emotions from gratitude, happiness, adoration, passion, love. Tom didn't need words for him to know that you were thankful for him, that you were so happy to have him in your life, he can already feel it. Your actions will always speak louder volumes, justifying all the emotions you needed to get across that simple words never could.

With a satisfied groan, Tom pulled you even closer, his hands snaking up your bare back, your shirt hiking up at his action. He felt up your warm skin deliberately, touch driven with passion as he nibbled on your bottom lip, wanting to taste more of you. You happily obliged with a soft moan, your fingers treading through his slightly damp curls as you welcomed him in. And Tom made his presence known through his touch, to remind you that he is here with you, that he will always be here, and that he is—

"Not going anywhere."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you liked it and tell me your thoughts <3

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miraeluc · 3 years

Text

you have an anxiety attack

prompt: “after a long day you’re just trying to cook for you and your roommate, but when you accidentally switch salt and sugar the stress dawns upon you and you lose it.”

pairing: kaeya x gender-neutral reader

warnings: description of an anxiety attack, explicit language

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, angst

rough day?

roughest of the rough

it started in the morning - all was good until you were all dressed and ready to go

all you needed to do was brush your teeth

of course you dropped toothpaste on your new blouse and had to change because your boss would literally kill you if you strutted in there with toothpaste stains on your clothing

that didn’t upset you too much anyway,, yep, it kinda sucks but it is what it is

you went to work

that’s when it started to REALLY go downhill

first, you had to sit your ass in this tiny cubicle all day and it remained right on that chair every time you stood up

that’s what it felt like at least

then, you lost data that you’ve been working on for a MONTH

an entire month’s worth data!!!! LOST!!!!

curse you and your issue with forgetting where you put your folders

so you started over

was it worth it?

your boss hated it

you ended up dropping the project overall,, handed it over to a co-worker

your excuse was that you felt too ‘unfit’ for the whole project and he would totally be a better fit!

poor bennett

bennett is a nice guy, you always hang out with him during break

you usually talk shit about the other co-workers and he just listens and sits there like ◕ ◡ ◕

he’s just there for the food you bring him, really

he’s a little dumb so he took the project from you with no hesitation

“i’ll do it for you, dont even worry about it, y/n!”

you ended up working overtime

you had about 7 projects to finish until tomorrow morning and they were all only half-done

so you got your coffee, turned off your phone and got to work

you finished at 9pm

your work hours are 8am-5:30pm

nope, not having a great time

well, at least you can go home now!

you pack up your stuff and get up, leaving this hellhole of an office, stretching as you wait for the elevator before checking your phone to see 7 missed calls from your roommate

aka kaeya

aka boy that is most likely emotionally unavailable

aka boy that KEEPS TURNING OFF THE HEATERS TO LEAVE YOU TO FREEZE

his excuse is always that he can’t handle the warmth but you’re sure its so you whine about the cold so he can hug you to warm you up

maybe you have a teeny tiny crush on him???? BUT WHO CAN BLAME YOU

he’s a whole package - the only thing he’s lacking is emotional availability lmao

which is why you never mentioned the day by day blooming feelings you’ve been developing for him

there would be no positive outcome from you telling him. he would politely turn you down, having to explain yet again that he doesn’t see himself having actual romantic feelings to someone

you’re content with your current relationship with him

right?

kaeya is known as the fuckboy! of the city

neither of you mind, he’s having his fun

and you know that there’s much more to it

you’re very happy to have gained his trust enough for him to let his flirty side down when with you, at least

well, there’s no time to ponder over your relationship with him because you’re already sprinting to catch the last bus of the day

right as you got to the station it drove away

fuck

what now?

you have to walk home. alone. in the dark.

oh well.

usually bennett drives you home but obviously he left earlier

its only a 15 minute walk you can do it

it’s not that bad there’s street lamps hey!

not that bad until it starts to rain, apparently

by the time you get home there’s water in places rainwater shouldn’t be

kaeya is running by the time he hears the front door

“where were you??”

“why didn’t you reply to my calls??”

“do you have a slight idea about how worried i w-”

he stops when he sees your soaked figure and tired expression

“oh, y/n, what happened?”

he immediately helped you chuck off your wet coat and shoes

“i worked overtime and missed the last bus so i had to walk home”, you sighed

he nodded and hummed “Go ahead and take a shower then, wouldn’t want you to get sick now, would we?” he winked

you scoffed but nodded anyway

“yeah, especially in this coLD FUCKING APARTMENT BECAUSE YOU REFUSE TO LET THE HEATERS TURNED ON-”

you only heard him laugh before shutting the door in the bathroom and jumping into the shower, needing to warm up because you were sure your toes were about to fall off from the cold

at least the shower went well

:///

you got dressed in lounge attire when you got out of the shower, walking to the kitchen because you were very hungry

you gave bennett all your food today so you didnt have any left

he just looked so hungry

ANYWAYS

you’re in the kitchen, deciding on what to cook

if you ask kaeya he will tell you to just drink wine instead so, no

you kind of want something sweet so you decide to bake cupcakes

kaeya shows up too

“what’re you baking?”

he sat and watched as you gathered all the ingredients you need

“cupcakes. how was your day?”

you strike up a conversation - all you talked about today was work and you need some decent interaction, plus kaeya is a super nice talk partner

“good. i had a day-off today so i layed in bed all day”

you hummed, stirring the eggs and flour

“how come? you never get off”

“no reason, i was forcibly given a day off- well anyways, what i wanted to tell you about before you worried me because i thoght you were deAD when you didn’t respond, is that i need your help setting up a date for diluc-”

you stopped listening halfway

you were looking at the unopened sugar bag on the counter

you just stirred the sugar in, why is it unopened????

you look over at the open bag of salt

wait a second

you take out a little dough and taste it

FUCK

“hello??? earth to y/n?? are you even liste-”

he stops himself as soon as you look at him with your lower lip trembling

uhhhhh

he’s never been in this situation

“y/n?? why are you crying-”

he looks at the counter and the dough, then he sees the salt beside the bowl you were stirring in and leans over to try some

oh, that’s why

“oh come on, is that what you’re crying over?” he snorted

he could barely catch you when you collapsed and started sobbing

he immediately regreted what he said

“hey, y/n, it’s just a little dough! its okay-”

you just sobbed and he sat down with you, sighing and pulling you into a tight hug

you felt your lungs constricting and your hands started shaking

you didn’t even notice how antsy you felt all day until now

you gasped for air and he tightened his grip on you

“w-why am i so worthless?!”

you punched his chest

“i can’t do a single thi-ng with-out messing it up!”

punch

“i’m so us-useless”

punch

“i should just kill m-”

he immediately pulled away and cupped your face before you could finish what you were about to say

“y/n, look at me. you had a bad day - you’re not useless! you’re stressed out! you’re one of the most hardworking people that i know- and, and don’t you ever mention anything about killing yourself! i won’t let you go, not as long as im here”

you were too busy fighting against the constricting feeling in your lungs to notice the tear slipping down his cheek before he hugged you tightly again

your hands gripped at his tshirt

his hand rested over your shaky ones

it broke him

seeing you in such state hurt him so much, he felt his own heart breaking a little with every gasp you took

“come on, let’s breathe together”

his voice was soft when he spoke to you

he took a deep breath in, you following

you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your head against his chest when breathing out

hearing his heartbeat made you feel safe

he kept breathing with you until he was more than sure you could breathe comfortably again

why did he feel like this?

sure, flirting with girls is fun

and ghosting them is also fun

he usually doesn’t care about hurting them

but why does he feel the need to protect you from all bad things?

and why does your pain hurt him too?

he sighs and shakes his head as if that would clear his mind

(it doesn’t)

oh well.

taking care of your needs is more important right now

he picks you up and walks over to the couch, sitting down, placing you on his lap and hugging you

“you’re not cooking anything, we’ll order takeout.”

you sniffled and nodded

you did feel your heart flutter a little when he sat you down on him

he’s never done that

you ignore it and reside into the warmth he gives instead, nuzzling your face into his chest

he smiles softly and strokes your hair, using his free hand to type in what you were ordering

you both fell into a comfortable silence

at some point he thought you fell asleep lol

“kaeya?”

he rose his brows a little and looked down, humming

“thank you.”

additional notes: welp. this was my first drabble! it was very fun to write and i genuinely look forward to writing more! i’d appreciate it alot if you leave any feedback or even requests for drabbles :-)

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #anxiety #anxiety attack #angst #fluff #diluc #bennett #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #gender neutral s/o #genshin impact x reader #kaeya scenario #genshin impact scenarios #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff

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linorangge · 3 years

Text

Yugyeom as Your Boyfriend ! <3

(keep in mind this is a head canon !) requested by @americaspeach

how you met:

- I would like to say that this man is my ult bias so just expect this to be rlly lengthy and cute

- u did graffiti art in an alley every now and then nd sometimes street dancers would show up

- one day gyeom showed up with jaebeom and jaebeom started b boying

- everyone was egging him on

- since yugyeom got there with beom, ppl wanted gyeom to join in

- he started doing some pops and stuff nd he did rlly well despite NOT b boying

- ppl were pretty blown away from their skills, u included

- you did ur graffiti, making sure to check if he was still there

- as the crowd dispersed after a few hours u noticed him walking away

- u totally ditched the graffiti and u walked after him

- it was hard to catch up bc mans is TALL nd has the longest legs ever

- u went up to him nd tapped his shoulder

- he turned, nd he actually had to look DOWN at u

- “u did rlly good out there”

- “oh thanks haha”

- he was kinda shy abt it

- u kinda started a convo abt his hobbies while beom was standing there in the background

- you eventually started flirting with him

- he flirted back

- u asked for his number

- he gave it to u

- he told u to have nice night nd u went back to ur graffiti

- you literally forgot that YOU had his number but he didn't have yours

- so u waited for a week for him to text u

- nd then u realized,,,,,,,

- YOU had to make the first move

- so u did

- nd gyeom was like “who is this”

- nd u were like “graffiti girl”

- nd he was like “OHHHHH wanna hang out later”

- you said yes ofc

- u went to a lil bowling alley place nd he taught u how to bowl

- u sucked at first and he won the game

- afterwards u guys drove around town and listened to music while u talked

- at some point u guys parked at some random place nd he showed u vids of him dancing

- which prompted u to show him pics of graffiti you'd done

- nd he showed u his singing vids nd u were VERY impressed

- after awhile he took u home nd yeah

- afterwards u guys became more friends than lovers

- u became close rlly rlly quick

- u guys very noticeably had crushes on each other

- nd then one day u guys were sitting on ur couch

- and he just kissed u ????

- nd he was like “omg im so sorry ill leave”

- nd u were like “no”

- and u guys just made out for like an hour

- nd then he was like

- “are we official now?”

- nd u were like “alright ig”

- u were dying inside tho

yugyeom as your boyfriend:

- so whipped

- he loves everything abt u

- puts “my”a lot in front of any pet name he calls u

- my baby

- my sweetie

- my darling

- my y/n

- WHIPPED WHIPPED WHIPPED SOSOSOSO WHIPPED

- he’s rlly giggly when he’s around u

- or when he talks abt u to the sevens he get blushy and giggly

- yeah he talks abt u SO MUCH

- “the other day y/n had to get on her tippy toes to kiss me”

- “gyeom you've told us this story like three times today”

- “then ur gonna listen for a fourth time”

- uses these emojis 🥺💞😽 EVERYTIME HE TEXTS U

- “are u feeling well today baby 🥺”

- GODDDDD SOSOSOSOS WHIPPED LITERALLY

- he sends u lots of texts throughout the day asking how ur feeling nd if u need anything

- also likes to facetime whenever he can

- at the studio, during a shoot, literally any time

- he literally just likes to make sure ur doing ok

- hmmm

- ur kinda one of his fav ppl

- he feels safe with u

- he tells u anything and everything bc he just trusts u that much

- pda wise

- he’s pretty affectionate tbh

- he’ll hold ur hand and give u long kisses

- nd sometimes ur like “bro we are in public PLEASE”

- nd he chills out LMAO

- alone he's a bit clingy

- he just likes being around u nd being in ur presence

- since there’s some height difference u sometimes just give up on kissing his lips so u kiss his collarbone/chest/neck

- HE LOVES THIS SO MUCH

- it drives him insane

- he gets shy around u sometimes

- if and when u guys do the uhhhhh secks

- he’ll be shy taking his clothes off

- and you’ll b like “dude we’ve seen each other naked like 7 times already”

- “ik but u still make me nervous”

- GOD SSOOSOSOS WHIPPED

- he also sometimes likes to sing u to sleep

- he takes requests

- sometimes u guys spoon in bed nd ur like

- “can u sing bruno mars”

- nd he sings bruno mars into ur ear softly

- the nights he does that u sleep so peacefully

- overall u make him happy

- u make him feel like he’s on top of the world as cheesy as that sounds

- he thinks ur so talented nd beautiful in every way

- he tends to take u to the dance studio sometimes

- nd u sit there and watch

- he’ll occasionally try to teach u some moves

- u learn a few every now and then

- sometimes u surprise him with food or sweets at the studio nd he just melts

- he likes to surprise u with random things

- random presents??

- “oh yea I got u this hoodie from ur fav brand”

- “what for”

- “just cus :) “

first time I love you was said:

- he said it first

- u were doing some graffiti art and u brought him along

- he was sitting back on a little bucket, watching u

- he’d take pictures of you or of himself to pass the time

- and then u turned, halfway thru the artwork

- u were covered in paint nd u had the biggest smile on his face

- “what do u think”

- he just stared at u

- he enjoyed seeing u do what u loved

- even more when u saw u happy

- “I love you y/n”

- and somehow ur smile grew bigger

- u let out a little giggle

- “I love you too gyeomie”

- he got up from his little bucket nd crossed the alley to meet u

- he embraced u and then pulled away to kiss you

- he felt like that moment lasted forever

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pocket-clown · 4 years

Text

Let’s Talk, Please | Arthur Fleck x reader // angst, with fluff at end.

// original request: could i get a little something about arthur and the reader having an argument over something small, insignificant that just gets out of control? and then making up with some extra fluffy fluff?

AN: Thank you for this request, anon! Writing angst kinda helps me get out some of the pent up negativity I have in me, and this gave me an excuse to do so. I could’ve gone….. a lot more angsty with this but I chose to spare ya’ll that torment and keep it light lmao.

Summary: It was a misunderstanding. A note hidden away in your pocket from someone at work - someone who was just trying to reach out and be friendly with you - but Arthur didn’t know this. To him, once he found it in a search of the set of keys you both shared, it looked an awful lot like you were on the verge of cheating on him, and that was a thought he couldn’t even bear.

Words: 3,901

Content warning: Some shouting on both ends, accusations of cheating, some angst though nothing super heavy.

“Arthur, what did you find?”

Your voice was as taut as your jaw was clenched, your eyes locking onto your boyfriend who currently had his back turned towards you.

Not even five minutes ago had things been fine; you, busy on the couch sorting through an old photo album, and Arthur, keeping himself preoccupied as he washed and put away what few dishes the two of you had dirtied that day. He was getting off work earlier than you were tomorrow which meant that you’d be trading places in regards to who checked the mail, and so he’d asked if you had the keys on you - and along with a nod of your head had you told him to search in your coat pocket for it.

Arthur had done exactly that, and in his search for the keys he ended up finding something you’d long since forgotten about: a note you received about two days ago, from a coworker.

08081 570xxx call me! ☺ - D

Your coworker, who wanted to meet up with you so you two could get to know each other better.

Your coworker, Donna, whom you were tasked with showing the ropes of the place to because she was new - but Arthur didn’t know that.

To Arthur, it looked like you had the number of some random person kept away in your pocket.

To Arthur, it looked like some man had given you his number, and that you’d hidden it from him.

To Arthur, it looked like you were on the verge of cheating on him.

It was a thought that he knew deep down was an irrational one; never once in the history of your relationship had you even mentioned the name of any man with an even remotely affectionate tone (apart from his name, of course), but upon finding the note did his mind immediately swing into overdrive. He’d read it over multiple times, the scratchiness of the handwriting burning into his mind, the request for you to call whomever the writer was, the smiley face (or was that a winky face? He couldn’t tell), the whole thing signed - D. He could think of a few people - all men - whose names began with a D (even the most ridiculous possibilities, such as the pharmacist at Helms’), and it was a thought that made him sick to his stomach the more he held the note in his hands. He had no doubt that all of them, each and every one of them, outshone him in each and every aspect of life - better jobs, more money, healthier, both physically and mentally, funnier - just overall better than he was, and the longer he held the scrap of receipt in his hand, the more did each and every insecurity and anxiety regarding his place in the world and your relationship come to the surface, bubbling up and spilling over like a pot that had been left on the back burner for too long.

You’d asked him, voice as carefree as always, what was wrong, your assumption being that he was just deep in thought about nothing particularly pressing. But then he didn’t respond, and again you tried to get his attention - fruitlessly. When your repeated plea of Arthur, please tell me what’s wrong fell on deaf ears yet again were you set into action, standing up from your spot on the couch up and walking halfway to him, only to see that he was holding something - something you couldn’t quite see from where you stood.

Come the present situation. Your heart pounding away in your chest, unbeknownst to you in perfect rhythm with Arthur’s own. Your hands were sweaty and trembling as you tried to keep your breath steady, and the sinking feeling you had only burrowed a deep pit into your stomach, pushing you to the verge of nausea as something about the situation just felt wrong.

What did he find?

What was wrong?

“Arthur, what’s wrong?"

A bit fed up after failing to get a response from him yet again did you take a deep breath and cross the rest of the way over to him, and once close enough to do so you placed your hand on his arm- an action Arthur flinched at as you peered over his shoulder just enough to see what it is he was holding.

“Oh, that -”

“What is this?” He asked, his voice undertone yet absolutely stinging. The sharp s that punctuated this was venomous, and by that alone could you tell that Arthur was pissed.

“It’s just something from someone at work, it -”

“Another man gave you his number?” It wasn’t even a question; more than anything, it sounded like a statement, or an accusation that he was just waiting for you to confirm in one way or another. He sounded hurt, and from your spot behind him could you see how tightly his jaw was clenched, and from your hand holding his arm could you feel how tense he was.

“What? Arthur, no, it’s not like that -”

“Well that’s what it looks like!” Not even giving you the chance to explain things did he cut you off, pivoting around so he could face you and look you in the eye. Very unlike Arthur was it to interrupt you, and even more unlike him was it for him to raise his voice at you in even the slightest of ways, and the fact that he’d done both was enough to frighten you. Not that you were scared of him, no, but the sight of an angry Arthur was an incredibly foreign one to you, and that alone shook you enough as you knew that something was really wrong.

“God, Arthur, can you calm down for a second and let me explain?”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Y/N! What did you think I’d think?”

“You weren’t even supposed to find out!” You shouted, your words coming out much, much harsher than you intended for them to as your voice raised in accordance with his. Immediately did you shut your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you tried to regain yourself with a breath. “Shit, Arthur, I didn’t mean it like that - ”

At your words, the expression on Arthur’s face changed from one of just anger and upset to one of pure appall; your point of him not even supposed to know about the note only seemed to validate the fear that was festering in the back of his mind; not only that you’d hidden it from him, but he took it as an admission of guilt - and the look on his face could’ve made your stomach drop to the floor. His eyebrows knit as he practically glared at you, the way his lips were trembling as if he were trying to hold himself back from saying something or god forbid crying - he looked mad, but underneath it all, he looked heartbroken.

“So you’re just going to go cheat on me like that?” And how the break in his quiet voice shattered your heart. It cracked as he spoke, a hitch in his breath as if he were trying to not have a total breakdown right then and there, in front of you.

“Arthur - what? Are you serious? That’s NOT what this is!”

“Well then what is it?!”

“It’s from a coworker, Arthur! - She - is new and wanted me to give - her - a call so we could get together for a little bit! You’d know that if you let me finish before!” You shout, your heavy emphasis on she and her seemingly doing very little in calming him; his chest heaved with every breath, his arms stiff at his sides as the scrap of receipt was having the life crushed out of it by how tightly he clenched it in his left hand. “I completely forgot about it until right now! You weren’t even supposed to know yet because I didn’t know how it was going to go or if it would even happen. And her name’s Donna, by the way. She’s funny and you’d probably get along with her.” You didn’t care enough to hide the brittle tone of your voice.

Arthur said absolutely nothing, not even breathing as his eyes bore into the floor between the two of you, a deep crease between his dark brows as he appeared to be lost in thought, trying to to contemplate your words.

“- Arthur, you seriously think that I’d cheat on you? Do you really trust me that little?”

“No! Y/N, no! Don’t think that - ”

“...You literally just accused me of that, not even a minute ago.” You brought your hands for a brief second before letting them drop back down, trying to come to terms with the sheer amount of disbelief that he’d accuse you of something as vile as cheating and then deny doing so seconds later. The look he was giving you was almost unreadable; a mix of confusion, of anger, of hurt, of fear - a crease between his brows, the corners of his mouth trembling ever so slightly as he fought off a frown. “Arthur, why would you even think that?”

It was like a blow to the heart to feel that Arthur didn’t trust you. For Arthur, your normally mild-tempered, tender boyfriend, to accuse you of cheating on him like he had - what kind of person did he think you to be? You knew that Arthur had his own set of fears and anxieties, yes - but never, ever had he outright accused you of anything before. Hushed conversations held late at night as the two of you held each other, your faces hidden in the crooks of the other’s neck as you opened wounds long since poorly-healed just enough for them to be discussed; betrayals from people in the past, each and every anxiety, whether shared or unique, regarding yourselves, and the apprehension of what could go wrong brought to light. Neither of you were very experienced in relationships, and you knew that out of the both of you, Arthur probably had more pent-up trepidation regarding this sort of thing, and so while it made some sense that his brain may connect the nonexistent dots that were drawn together by the small note in your pocket, that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You held up your hand. “Actually, no - I’m taking a bath.” You said, cutting him off before he could even respond with a curt shake of your head.

With that, you turned and slipped away into the bathroom, the feeling of Arthur’s eyes following you tempting you to turn around, the urge of which you resisted as you knew that at the moment, more than anything did the two of you need to take a breather calm down for some time. Both of you knew you were fibbing; you weren’t really going to take a bath, but it made for an excuse to get you just a few moments alone to settle your thoughts and calm yourself down, lest your angst get to you more. You shut the door to the bathroom and immediately slumped down against it, subsequently keeping Arthur from being able to enter if he tried - a thought that broke your heart to even think because so often, more than anything, did you want to let him in.

It had been about five minutes after you initially slumped down onto the cold, tiled floor when you heard a gentle, almost inaudible knock from the other side.

“Y/N…?”

“...What, Arthur?”

“Can we talk - please?...” His voice sounded absolutely heartbroken, especially from the other side of the door. You had a feeling that he was standing right up against the door with his forehead pressed to it like he often did when deep in thought and trying to calm his thoughts, judging by how if you listened close enough you swore you could hear each and every one of his unsteady breaths.

Your own breath stalled for a second as you took a deep breath, your head lolling back against the door with a soft thud. You heart was still pounding, but much less so; you just wanted this over with, but you knew it wouldn’t happen without at least one of you getting emotional.

You almost worried that it would explode into another argument, and at this point, you’d lost absolutely all drive to fight - not that you’d really even had any in the first place. Arguing with Arthur about anything at all was rare - so rare that sometimes you worried that it wasn’t healthy. Neither of you ever wanted to upset the other, but all couples fought; it was important to do, otherwise issues would get swept under the rug and forgotten about for the time being, never truly dealt with - only to come crawling back out at some point in the future and cause even more strife than they would’ve had they been actually dealt with when appropriate. It was just a dumb, stupid misunderstanding that was only worsened and blown out of proportion by some of the less-spoken about tensions in the relationship. So often did Arthur absolutely agonize over the thought of you no longer loving him; thoughts plaguing him in the form of a mantra that cried “you’re no good, you’re undeserving, she needs someone better than you and it’s only a matter of time before they show up” playing on repeat, making his already practically non-existent sleep schedule worse and worsening his already unhealthy mental state. Arthur was simultaneously itching to tell you about it but also too afraid to, lest his irrational fears become too much for you to deal with, and he’d try, he’d fight so hard to ignore them, and you’d try equally as hard to combat them with loving touches and words of affirmation, but it wasn’t something that would just go away. Arthur was troubled, this you knew; but so were you. You had your own set of insecurities and anxieties, and both you and your boyfriend who you felt sometimes cared too much tried so, so damn hard to help keep each other afloat that often times you forgot to stop and take care of yourselves, too.

But, yes, what couple didn’t argue? Perhaps this was an opportunity, one with regrettable circumstances, for you two to actually talk more about this stuff. Yes, in the past you have, but those conversations always tended to take place late at night when the mood was tender, the both of you so sleepy in the presence of each other that your walls came down just enough for the other to see what was on the other side for a brief moment. You loved Arthur, and you knew that he loved you, too - and with that love and desire to understand each other you knew that you could get through this.

Without wasting another second did you stand up, your legs and backside aching from being pressed against the hard floor for so long, and you could’ve ripped the door from the frame with how hard you opened it. The sight on the other side of a very distraught Arthur shattered your heart; his eyes glassy, nose red - his entire expression told you that not only was he distraught over the argument itself, but that he was afraid of where things would go from then on - a fear you couldn’t really blame him for.

“Art, I - ”

“No, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t you, I should’ve mentioned it when I got it.”

“- No, Y/N, it was me. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that - I shouldn’t have accused you of something like that without even thinking first.” The latter portion of his sentence had a hushed urgency to it as he closed the gap between the two of you, and you met him halfway as you threw your arms around his neck, hiding your face between your arm and the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me…”

“I’m not mad at you, Arthur, it just really, really fucking hurt to be accused of something like that.” You said, feeling him sigh against you, and you could only guess how he was feeling. Arthur hated upsetting you - just like he hated hurting you in any way. Being honest with him that he had done either of those things was hard because you knew how much it would upset him in return, but you knew that it was needed. “Just please, don’t do it again.”

“No, no, no, never, sweetheart, never.” He whispered, his lips pressed to the top of your head as your face was tucked into his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

“And I shouldn’t have kept it from you. Not that I meant to, but you probably would’ve liked to know.”

“You aren’t mad at me still, are you?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but coo slightly at how meek his voice was.

“Artie I was never actually mad at you. I was just upset with the situation.” And with that you pulled your face away from him, bringing your hands to cup his face like he so often did yours and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “We both just got upset over a misunderstanding.” You said, pressing your forehead to his.

You two stayed like that for awhile, your arms not unwrapping from the embrace as you reassured each other over and over again with hushed voices that it was okay. You both knew this was an issue that needed to be resolved, or at least spoken about more openly; considering it most likely stemmed from Arthur’s already poor self esteem and acceptance that life was just not going to be kind to him, it would not just go away with a few kisses and kind words. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have your own worries; you knew that before you came along that Arthur had a thing for his neighbor who was nothing short of an absolute babe, and while you knew that Arthur wouldn’t ever go behind your back and cheat on you, you sometimes did get hung up over worrying if he was truly, totally, over her like he’d assured you that he was, countless times. You’d feel a twinge of jealousy every now and then when he’d smile at her, and you knew it was silly. Arthur was incredibly talented at reading your mood and would always get a bit of a chuckle out of it; the fact that you were jealous when it was usually him was something he’d find cute, but nonetheless would he tell you that you were all he wanted. You figured that it was only fair for Arthur to know the same; he was all that you wanted.

It would definitely be a long road for the two of you to overcome this sort of thing, but the two of you had already been through a lot together. How was this any different?

“Hey, Murray’s going to start soon, right?” You spoke up after a minute of silence, and you could feel Arthur smile against your shoulder where he’d had his head tucked down, his face pressed into the fabric of your sweater. You could feel the warmth of his breath through your sweater as he mumbled yay, Murray!, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at how adorable it was. Cuddling up on the couch or bed and watching the Murray show was one of your favorite pastimes with him; regardless of whether it was a new episode, a rerun on channel four, or one of Arthur’s VHS tapes, it was one of the few times that you got to see Arthur and all of his genuine happiness, and hear his beautiful, beautiful laugh that you wished you got to hear more of.

You had a feeling that your hesitance to leave Arthur’s side for the remainder of the night was a mutual one, given by how once you were settled on the bed with the television at the far end switched on, Arthur’s arms found their way around your waist, allowing you to snuggle right up to him, your head on his shoulder with your leg hitched over his, his cheek pressed to the top of your head as he fixed his attention on the show.

“And I was serious when I said that I think you’d get along with her, you know.” You spoke up during a commercial break, knowing that Arthur didn’t like it when something interrupted the show.

“Hm?”

“My coworker, Donna. She’s funny, and a little older than I am. She’s nice - would you wanna meet her sometime?”

Arthur’s quiet for a moment, his look a thoughtful one as he gazed at the television. “Do you think she’d want to meet me?” His voice was soft and uncertain. You knew how often he’d doubt how others felt about him, and you couldn’t really blame him as more often than not did the city - sometimes quite literally - beat it into him that he was an outsider who wasn’t to be accepted by others. It was a feeling that had plagued Arthur for most if not all of his life, and so his worry regarding whether he’d even be remotely liked by a new person was more valid than you liked for it to be.

Despite that, you couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his question - something about it just seemed so silly to you, perhaps because you’d taken such a quick liking to Arthur within moments of meeting him for the first time that it was next to impossible for you to even imagine someone not liking him.

“Well, yeah - I’ve told her a little bit about you, already. I’m sure she’d love to.” You said as you sat up fully, your hand coming to the top of his head so you could brush your fingers through his soft brown curls, a feeling he leaned into as his eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll call her tomorrow, and figure out what she wants to do. That sound fine? It probably won’t be until the weekend, though.”

He hummed in agreement for a brief moment, before looking up to meet your eyes. “You’re sure you aren’t still upset with me..?” He asked yet again, his need for reassurance keeping him from biting his tongue.

“Art if I was, I’d still be hiding in the bathroom.” You shot him a look, the playful smile on your lips only growing as Arthur’s own smile suggested he was amused by your response. It was true; you weren’t upset in the slightest anymore - the problem had been dealt with for the night. Yes, you knew that it would need to be talked about again very soon, lest it happen again - but that’s what tomorrow, or a day later in the week, was for. For the time being, you just wanted to settle in with Arthur. Eventually things would need to be taken care of; clothes changed for bed, the remainder of the dishes and the photo album taken care of, but for now, the last thing you wanted was to part from Arthur and spoil the moment of warmth and contentedness that was needed - for the both of you.

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taglist;

@tahliamalfoydepp @tsukiakarinobara @smol-nari @ajokeformur-ray @lavenderheartz @lady-carnivals-stuff @darknessisafriend @emissarydecksetter @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend @fleckcmscott @oldloverhippiemusic (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #joker #joker 2019 #joker x reader #joker x you #joker 2019 x reader #joker 2019 x you #arthur fleck imagine #joker imagine #joker 2019 imagine #mine

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thinking-in-symbols · 3 years

Text

Quinquennial Life Assessment

So, it’s been a few years. When I was 19 I posted a sort of “roadmap” for the evolution of my life on this blog. Today I thought I’d revisit that. I want to take a look back and see what progress I’ve made, and then in a separate post I want to turn to the future, think about how my vision for it has changed, and consider how I can reincorporate these goals into that vision.

This is the list of things I wanted to get done in varying time frames. I’ve crossed off the things I’ve done to get a sense of my progress:

1 year:

At 19, my hopes were to accomplish the following things by age 20:

- Joined, and consistently participated in, at least 2 campus organizations that suit my interests, at least 1 of which should be competitive in nature - well, I joined the ISO and KVRX, my college radio station! Neither of those were competitive, but in retrospect I don’t really care about that :-)

- Made concrete plans to study abroad - Nope, unfortunately I never did this. I’m not quite sure I regret that, all things considered - I traded that experience for other things. I did make plans to spend a few months abroad of my own accord, and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling global pandemic. But as it stands I haven’t done this.

- Learned C++ and python to proficiency - Hm. “Proficient” is a relative term. But I think I have a tendency to downplay my skills, so in the interest of counteracting that I’m going to count myself as “proficient” in these languages. I think that’s fair.

- Gone on at least a several day road trip with at least 1 friend - I’ve gone on several trips with @meeshbug, my very lovely girlfriend and best friend in the world :-)

- Decided on a concentration beyond the extremely vague umbrella of “computer science” - Unfortunately as far as my education is concerned I never really did this. If anything my interests have *broadened* rather than becoming more focused. More on this later...

- Made meaningful, ongoing contributions to an open-source project - You know what? I’ve published the source of everything I’ve ever made, and I’ve gotten to the point where I can make stuff that’s not trivial. So I’m giving myself credit for this one.

- Learned to cook enough meals to eat in most days and not get sick of my own food - I wish. I’ve learned to cook a fair amount of stuff but I still get way too depressed and lethargic to apply that consistently. Whether I consider myself to have achieved this honestly depends on the month.

- Learned to keep my living area clean - I’m much better at this than I was at 19, but at 19 I could barely clear a path to walk across my room. So there’s more work to do. More on these last two later.

- Gotten a pet - Meesh and I have a dog named Courage (after the dog of cowardly fame) and a cat named Jax!

2 years:

- Independently written a piece of software to completion and deployed it publicly - I’ve always pretty bad at actually seeing projects through to completion, but I do have a few full, independent projects under my belt at this point. I’ve built a simple game engine, a pathtracer, plugins for games I like, and some other stuff.

- purchased and begun regularly using some basic amateur radio equipment - Ah man. I got my license but I still haven’t gotten any equipment. I guess I have to get on that...

- purchased and begun experimenting with some basic music recording equipment - This one I’ve done, but I haven’t done as much experimenting as I’d like.

- hosted a party - I did this for my 21st birthday and it’s one of my favorite memories! Honestly this was probably the last time I had all my really close friends in one place. I’m actually getting kind of emotional about that.

- done some kind of hallucinogen - I have now done this. I definitely did get something out of it, albeit not what I expected. This is something I actually only did pretty recently and it’s still having a pretty profound effect. Maybe I’ll write a separate post about this.

- Gone camping with friends - Despite my best efforts, this hasn’t happened yet. Pretty fucked up.

3 years:

- learned to play another instrument besides the piano (guitar?) - I don’t feel comfortable crossing this one off quite yet, but I went ahead and bought myself some guitar equipment and have been messing around with it lately :-) I think I’m going to have to bite the bullet and pay for lessons if I’m serious about this, which I am.

- Written and recorded a song - Damn, I can’t believe it’s been 5 years and I haven’t even done this.

- Met a group of people I can play music with - nope

- Owned a leather jacket. I can’t believe I’ve still never even owned a leather jacket - I’ve done this and wore it frankly too much. Kinda cringe.

- Worked as a professional software developer - Yep! Worked as a software developer for a retail company for a couple years. I’m actually not working as a software developer right now, though; I’m working in a sort of adjacent position. More on this later.

- Participated in research related to my field - That’s pretty ambitious. Not sure I’ll ever do this, unfortunately. But we’ll see.

- Been to a film festival - Oh shit, I totally forgot about having written this. That’s a cool idea. I should do this, it’s not like it’s hard (well, at least in principle. I guess covid kind of changes the situation).

- Gotten a dog - Courage is one of those, I think, although he might also be part rat.

- collected 50 records - Lol, my dumb ass really thought I was going to buy $1,000 worth of records on college money. No, I haven’t done this, but I’m on my way there.

- Purchased a desktop computer - Well, my dad gave me his old desktop. That’s not really a purchase but I think it counts.

5 years:

- Begun accepting freelance development gigs - haven’t gotten here yet and I’m not totally sure this is a direction I want to go in my career. Freelancing has its own stressors as I’ve come to learn from others. No career path is sunshine and roses and I’m trying to internalize this fact.

- Participated in a student film - Nope. I don’t even know why I wrote this down to be honest.

- Gotten laid by solving a 5x5 Rubik’s Cube in front of a girl because surely that’s gonna have to work on someone eventually, otherwise I wasted a lot of time - These are getting weird. Surely I didn’t really expect this to happen, right? Well, either way I now have a long-term girlfriend, so I don’t - wait, Meesh has seen me solve a Rubik’s cube and she saw it before we started dating. So actually I’m going to give myself credit for it. I’m the one who makes the rules here.

- Fleshed out my political opinions - Yes, I now know everything about politics and can answer 100% of questions on political issues. Just kidding. But I know where I stand.

- Participated in a protest or some other kind of political event - Done! Went to a few protests as part of the ISO, participated in lots of their events, and attended some protests with friends as well.

- Studied abroad - Nope :-/

- Learned a language other than Spanish - I took a semester of French! But I don’t quite want to give myself credit for this one because I really would like to learn a different language to something resembling fluency.

- Run a marathon - Lmao. I am in much worse shape now than I was when I wrote this post, and even at that time I could probably do like 7 miles if I really pushed myself. How sad.

- Gone hiking outside of texas - This is weird because I’d literally already done this when I wrote this post. But I’ve done it more since then, so hey!

- Been out of the country with a friend - This I had also already done. I guess the point is to have done it without “adult supervision” or whatever. I haven’t done this since writing this list so I guess I have to leave it uncrossed.

10 years:

- Lived with a girl for an extended period of time - Meesh 🥰

- Spent at least 6 months living on the road in an RV, preferably with a dog and a girl - God, I am so close to being able to do this. I don’t want it to be an RV anymore - those things are expensive. But a van? Still pricey, but doable, especially if I’m willing to sacrifice some comfort. This has actually been front-of-mind for a while. I’ll let you know when I get the balls to pull the trigger.

- Started making Real Money - Well, yep, I have gotten to that point. I do have other thoughts on this, though. Money is weird, man.

- Lived in a long-term living space outside of Texas (i.e. not including RV time) - How long is long-term? Three months? If so, I’ve done this by living in Boston with Meesh for a few months after she went there for law school. However, I anticipate staying there much longer in the near future, so I’ll wait on this crossing this one off.

- Written a book about something, idk - Not yet. I’m halfway to the deadline on this one and I have some ideas, but ideas aren’t worth all that much, especially to me, who rarely sees them through. We’ll see where this goes. It’s not exactly a priority and historically I struggle to get even my priorities done. It might make more sense to replace this with recording a concept or narrative album, for which I also have ideas that I happen to take more seriously.

- Learned to solve a 6x6 Rubik’s Cube - nope

- Gotten laid by solving a 6x6 Rubik’s Cube - nope

- Lived in an apartment where I pay all the rent - Yes! :-))) We love independence

- Earned an advanced degree (this one’s iffy) - This hasn’t happened, and whether it will ever happen is something I’ve been thinking a lot about. I sort of decided half-way through college that I would be totally burned out on school by the time I graduated. But in retrospect it takes way less time to burn out on work than it does to burn out on school, and grad degrees are a different kind of thing. So it’s worth revisiting.’

- Given a best man speech (Sam, this means you have to get married within the next 10 years. Good luck out there.) - Holy shit, Sam, you maniac, you actually did it! Sam got married back in 2019 and I gave his best man speech! It’s another one of my favorite memories :-)

- Gone on a cruise with someone I’m dating - Hmm, not yet. I’ve gone on cool trips, but none on a boat. Maybe that’s something to aim for after the pandemic passes :-)

Retrospective:

1yr: Completed: 5/9

More than half isn’t bad! I’m not gonna worry too much about whether I got these things done within their assigned “time-frame”. I’m a procrastinator in my heart and I don’t see any reason to put that kind of pressure on myself. The point is, they got done. That’s enough for me.

The things I did best in in this category were academic things, and things to do with relationships. I’m proud of the academic achievements, I really feel like doing them has increased my belief in myself and my sense that I’m good at the thing I’ve spent the last four years studying. And of course, I am so happy to be in a loving, fulfilling relationship that brings so many good things into my life. I almost feel like the things I accomplished sort of fell into my lap - of course I’m gonna do programming stuff as a programming student, and getting pets / going on road trips are things I did as a result of my relationship with Meesh. I don’t say that to downplay the accomplishments, but I do think it’s worth noting.

The things I haven’t done are more to do with personal development, which is disappointing. I would like to be able to say, 5 years down the road, that I’ve done the personal development I expected to do in just a single year, but maybe that’s a lot to expect. These are problems I’ve dealt with my whole life. I think what this means is that I can’t expect everything to fall into my lap. Those things are going to take real concerted effort to change. I’m not quite sure how to go about that, though.

2yrs: Completed: 4/6

Two-thirds! Even better!

Lots of these are one-time accomplishments, not so much long-term commitments to personal development. The good news is, I did them, and I think those resulted in some development in their own right :-)

Again, though, the things I didn’t do so well are the things that require long-term, concerted effort. For instance, while I crossed off the one about experimenting with music, it’s really only the initial investment that I’ve really done at this point. It remains to be seen whether I’ll be able to follow through on the commitment to actually experiment and learn.

3yrs: Completed: 4/10

This category also follows the same pattern I’ve noticed with the last two. The other thing I’m noticing is that so, so much of my effort over the past few years has been going towards developing a very particular skill: programming / computer science. Music and art are so important to me, but I’ve done very little real development in those areas. I mean, I’ve done some. But not as much as I would have hoped for half a decade.

5yrs: Completed: 4/10

This is getting a little more fun because less of my goals have to do explicitly with my degree. I’m starting to think beyond college, which is good, because the stage of life I’m in right now requires me to start thinking about the kind of life I want to build now that I’m done with school. Also, I’m at the deadline for this one right now! So this is a particularly interesting category because it really shows where I thought I’d be by this time.

The goals I accomplished in this timeframe are, again, mostly things I’ve done through my relationship, but politics also feature pretty prominently on this part of the list. I spent a lot of time reading and researching political issues during college and really did look for ways to participate. I honestly made politics a pretty big part of my identity over the last 5 years, and I think it will stay that way forever, but I’ve gotten to the point where I think I need to devote less of my mental energy to knowing more. I know what I need to know. It’s time to think about other things.

10yrs: Completed: 4/11 (and counting!)

There’s some career stuff in this section that I’ve been able to do, which is good news. I’ve always been scared about entering the working world. All things told, it’s gone more smoothly than it could have. But I also have lots of lingering doubts about what I want to do in the long term. So one of the most pressing goals I should aim for is to resolve those doubts.

Ultimately, I have a lot of time left, and I’m not even done with this time frame, so I’m not gonna spend much time dissecting the things I haven’t done. What I’ll do instead is say that while I didn’t do everything on this list, I feel proud of the things I have accomplished. I said when I first wrote this list that it’s sometimes hard for me to feel that my life is moving in any particular direction, and I’m still feeling like that five years later, to be honest. But looking back on these things has helped me see that I actually am making progress in my life. Not in all the ways I want to, but that’s OK. There’s still time.

In the next couple days I want to come back to this and reorganize this list into an updated set of goals, for the same time frames. Maybe that will help me think through exactly what it is I want out of the next five-ten years, with the benefit of having analyzed the things that I did and didn’t do well over the previous five.

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darlinrogue · 3 years

Note

“ sometimes i realize one day i could die, i could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. there’d be no one to miss me and that terrifies me more than death itself. ” — kenny @ adam!

It’s All Down Hill From Here Ya’ll

Adam and Kenny || @ofgrief

Adam woke-up with the hangover of a lifetime. A whole ass construction crew wedged inside his cranium going to demolition town. Big, sweaty, muscly guys with jackhammers, wrecking balls, and heavy machinery. For some stupid reason he left the curtain open last night. Morning light spilled into the room and stabbed his eyeballs with serrated knives. Adam groaned and rolled over. He pressed his face into the pillow. His body ached, his head hurt, he was nauseous, and he kinda had to pee— shit, he hadn’t woken-up like this in a minute. Someone needed to shut-up their phone, the incessant chiming was getting on his last nerve. Then it hit him. That was his phone and his alarm going off at God’s forsaken hour of six-thirty.

Adam slapped at the nightstand. He smacked the shit out of the alarm clock and knocked his car keys to the floor, no phone. Adam weathered the agony of lifting his head-up enough to look and hear the blasted thing beneath him. He slid halfway out of the bed and clawed at the floor beneath the headboard. Then, bingo, his hand closed around the phone and he pressed the power button to shut it up. With most of his upper body hanging off the mattress, Adam crumpled to the floor. His calves tangled with the blankets and he dragged the sheets clean off the bed with him. Flopped against the carpet, he massaged the bridge of his nose. There was a black hairband around his wrist and he had no clue where it came from. Adam yanked back his tangled, frizzy hair into a ponytail to get it out of his eyes. He laid there, blithe and numb, letting incoherent thoughts skim the surface of his consciousness. Bit-by-bit, Adam reconstructed the past twenty-four hours and it was enough to make him laugh.

Damn, he was good.

Eager to bask in a rare accomplishment, Adam turned his attention to his phone. He blinked and wiped the grit from his eyes as the screen flicked to life. He had one text message in his notifications. Kenny Omega, at a little past midnight texted him: [Wanna hang out?]

Adam let that time bomb tick as he unlocked his phone and checked Twitter instead. He searched Matt Hardy and perused the iconic’s Twitter feed. Another grin cracked Adam’s face down the middle. Hardy had no idea. That little task of self aggrandization done, Adam opened the messaging app. He stared at the screen and the little bubble of text from Kenny. Absent-minded, Adam reached down and yanked his belt off— only now realizing he never took it off. Then he answered Kenny’s question with a question.

[Got anything in mind?]

He paused, tongue running over his lips. Then, he untangled his legs from the sheets and blankets. Adam pushed to his feet and stumbled across the room to his bag on the desk. Inside he found Advil and a flask of whiskey. He washed the pain medicine down with a generous swig of alcohol. Adam coughed, beating on his chest to clear his dry throat. On the way to the bathroom he stripped out of his jeans. While brushing his teeth, his phone chimed. Adam spat into the sink and leaned over to read Kenny’s reply.

[My place. Dinner at six?]

Okay, so that wasn’t ‘hanging-out.’ In Adam’s book, ‘hanging-out’ with Kenny was playing video games or going to an arcade. Maybe they’d work-out, train and drill in the ring, sit around the hotel room and watch movies. All the little things they did as a tag-team to kill time on the road or between matches. What Kenny proposed sounded like a —dare Adam say it— a date. Like two adults, sitting down over a candle-lit table, and talking about serious things for a couple of hours. Which, it was Kenny, so not a big deal, but at the same time, it was Kenny, which was a big deal.

Since, November their relationship had been stuck in this weird, strange, gray, Twilight-Zone that was neither friendship or anything else. Cuddling in bed or on a couch, flirting, lingering too close, heady with physical desire, and softened by intimacy. Stablemates were always close, stuck on buses and planes for hours together enforced liking someone. Kenny and Adam had seen each other at the worst, at their best. This thing went beyond that. They were friends, tag-partners for a period, all they had left, and yet, nothing at all. Adam could ask Kenny: ‘What the fuck are we?’ If he thought he’d get a straight answer.

Unwilling to unpack all that, Adam dressed to work-out. He left his hotel room and started down the stairs to the lobby. He thought about dinner at six. Today’s original plan was to drive seven hours back to North Carolina, shooting straight-up I-95 along the coast. If Adam left after breakfast he’d be back in the afternoon. Staying another evening in Jacksonville wasn’t a big deal. Such were the benefits of a lonely bachelor life. A neighborhood girl usually took care of Adam’s dogs on Wednesdays. He could call her, offer a generous tip, and get another night. Around the sixth floor landing, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and gave Kenny his answer.

[Sure, I’ll bring milk and beer. Give me your address.]

Down in the hotel gym he started his work-out, running through reps with almost memorized, mechanical ease. While Adam counted bicep curls, his phone chimed and he glanced at it long enough to see that Kenny had sent the address. Between sets, Adam popped the address into Google Maps. The house was a little over a half-hour drive away on Pointe Verde Beach, just outside of Jacksonville. Strange, because Adam had no memory of Kenny owning a house in or around Jacksonville. He heard whisper of a house near Orlando. He was vaguely aware that Kenny had stayed with Callis or Nakazawa a few times. Adam shuffled this mystery home off as another thing he just didn’t know about Kenny. He finished his work-out on the treadmill, running until endorphins blasted Kenny and the last of the hang-over from his brain. Adam returned to his hotel room to shower.

While hot water rolled down his back and he scrubbed conditioner from his hair, Adam wondered after Kenny’s ulterior motives. Back in December Kenny made it clear what he wanted from Adam: sex. That wasn’t Adam’s own ego talking, that was straight out of the horse’s mouth. Kenny had said he wanted Adam to kiss him, touch him, and fuck him. That was what he said, almost verbatim. Adam was an adult. He spent a significant chunk of his twenties sexually active. He wasn’t shy or prudish, he had no hang-ups. He could do all the things Kenny wanted. Hell, he’d gladly do them, under the right circumstances. Provided Adam could negotiate the differences between male and female anatomy with any competence. Physical desire was absolutely a dimension of his attraction to Kenny. Except, he wasn’t sure if this was the right circumstances. The thought that Kenny was inviting Adam over to dinner for the sole purpose of propositioning him for sex, turned Adam’s stomach over. He cranked the water cold and sobered beneath the icy spray, jaw tight. He turned off the water and toweled off. Adam texted Kenny again.

[Nak’s not going to be there, is he?]

Two seconds later, Kenny replied:

[Nope, just us.]

And to keep some kinda banter, Adam texted him back, hoping that the words read as teasing.

[No Callis, either?]

[lmao no he’s in Tennessee doing Impact crap for the PPV. He left this morning.]

And Adam hadn’t felt this nervous about being alone with Kenny since the first time they played Mario Tennis with Chase Owens. Because shit, he’d been stringing Kenny along for months now. Sure, Callis had been a consistent cock block, but Adam wouldn’t pretend he and Kenny weren’t playing some kinda game. A no-rules, Calvinball-Esque, game with moving goalposts. There were no boundaries because Kenny and Adam never set any. That would imply proper and honest communication. All of it was impromptu and they were living on a prayer that neither of them stepped on any toes. In a way, Daily’s place was a blessing. The presence of others acted as a natural check-and-balance on Kenny and Adam’s weird dynamic. So long as they didn't talk about it, didn't acknowledge the elephant in the room, everything was fine. An evening alone felt like cutting the breaks. It wasn’t that Adam feared having sex with Kenny or Kenny outright trying to jump his bones. It wasn’t that he didn’t want that, or that he hadn’t thought about it.

It was just that he wanted more.

Call him a sap, but Adam loved Kenny and he wanted Kenny to love him too. He wanted to go on dates. He wanted to wake-up in the same bed in the morning and to kiss Kenny awake. He wanted the small pleasure of fixing breakfast for both of them. Even to do the dishes together and all the boring domestic tasks of day-to-day life. To talk about how their days went but also to exist in quiet intimacy. He wanted to walk down the street holding Kenny’s hand. To drop casually in conversations, “My boyfriend Kenny—” To argue, make-up, and do better next time, all of it. And they were so off the rails because Adam was afraid that saying ‘no’ to Kenny in any capacity would kill what little they had. The what-ifs piled in Adam’s brain. Kenny using him for sex and then never talking to him again. Kenny telling him off for introducing more emotion that was necessary to a physical relationship. Kenny letting Adam know that he had finally moved on from his hot cowboy tag-partner and he won’t be needed anymore. The moment Kenny figured-out that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted from Adam— was the moment Adam lost him.

Adam ate breakfast at the hotel hot bar. He had yogurt, an orange, eggs, and some links of sausage. He arranged for an extra night at the hotel and texted the girl who took care of his dogs. Then he got hustled by said teenager for almost twice the usual rate because she had, ‘lots of homework.’ Adam couldn’t complain because he was honestly kinda proud. She’d make a great carny one day. With not much else to do in Jacksonville, he left the hotel to go shopping. Adam had only packed for one night and not for a maybe-date with Kenny. He bought a white button down at a clothing store. Then, stopped by an uptown grocery store to buy 2% milk and local IPAs. Adam spent about three minutes lingering by a display of pre-arranged bouquets at the store, wondering if flowers would be too much. He walked away from the display, walked back, almost walked away again, stopped, and then stared a little longer. His hand fluttered by his side and before he could stop himself, Adam grabbed a bouquet of yellow flowers. Shit, he was an idiot.

He thought, as the cashier rang him up, that Kenny was going to laugh at him.

He took a lunch break at a small Mexican hole-in-the-wall because his diet was shot to hell today and he’d just have to admit it. Back at the hotel, he did his second work-out, showered again, and then realized he had three whole hours to kill. Three hours to get dressed, fuss over his hair, sit around, stare at the dumb flowers he bought, and consider if waterboarding would be a more or less effective form of torture. He scrolled Twitter, did some Duolingo. His body was tense, a live wire, his heart pounding. Adam left thirty minutes early and so took a twenty-minute detour, just to kill time. All so he wouldn’t look like a complete, desperate dweeb— showing-up early and with flowers? That would be way too much.

The house was situated in an upscale, rich and retired, suburb nestled by the ocean. It was smaller, blander than the two, three story beach homes that towered around it, with their sparse lawns and obnoxious, pastel colors. It was a one-story, Spanish-style home with a brown roof and off-white siding. Palm trees and shaped topiary decorated the well-tended front yard. The sun back dropped the city to the West, burning gold. The angles of light painted the thin, sparse clouds pink, purple, and orange creamsicle. Adam parked in the driveway in front of the garage. He stepped out of his car and the wind, tasting of salt, pulled at his hair. Between the neighbor’s fence and the sand dunes, he caught sight of the Atlantic. The waves rolled and churned, edged by white foam-like lace. Adam walked around to the other side of the car. On the floorboards were the milk and beer, and on the passenger seat were the flowers. His hands trembled and his heart thudded against his chest like a hammer. Do or die, he had to commit now— fuck it, life was short and that bouquet was like twenty bucks. He tucked the beers under his arm, picked-up the milk in one hand, and the flowers in the other,

Adam walked up to the front porch and used his elbow to ring the bell. Before Adam even retracted his hand, the door opened. Kenny stood on the other side of the threshold. His hair was yanked back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. Flour dusted his pink t-shirt across the chest. Adam’s eyes drifted down to khaki shorts and the loafers he wore without any socks. For a brief second, Kenny stared at Adam, also giving him a once-over. Adam hesitated, trying to decide if he should give Kenny the flowers or put something down to offer a handshake— like a dork. He managed neither before Kenny cussed.

“Son of a bitch, you dressed nice, shit, stay there.” Kenny pointed at Adam to indicate where he should 'stay.' Then, Kenny vanished into the house, leaving the door ajar. Adam gaped, brow furrowed and blinking like an owl. A Gregorian choir in his brain chanted, ‘dork, dork, massive dork!’

Kenny hadn’t come back by the time Adam processed his absence. So, he took the first step over the threshold. “Uh, Kenny? I’m coming in?” Adam called, to no reply.

The inside of the house had a blandly typical beach house vibe. White walls, seashell decor, stock paintings of the ocean, and blue accents. There was a wood sign on the entry hall wall that read: Happiness comes in waves. To his left was the kitchen, a large space, with expansive white countertops and black appliances. There were a few bowls and dishes left out, with signs of being used. The sink was to put it lightly, a wreck, filled with utensils, cutting boards, and knives. Adam put the milk and beer in the fridge. Then noted that the dining room table was set. Each place had a gleaming crimson plate. No forks or knives, just chopsticks. A drinking glass for water. Kenny even had even folded the cloth napkins. All set on a black placemat. Adam wandered on into the rest of the house in search of Kenny. Connected to the dining room was the living room. Tall windows on the East wall allowed an expansive view over the pool, yard, and ocean. The sliding glass back door had been left cracked, to allow the cool and brisk breeze in. Adam pushed his hands into his pockets and soaked in the ocean at sunset.

Footsteps echoed down the far hall. Kenny passed the living room doorway, on the way to the kitchen. He caught Adam out of the corner of his eye and pulled back, changing direction at the last second. Kenny smiled and spread his arms wide so Adam could admire new outfit. He’d changed into dark jeans, a red v-neck, and a black blazer. Still in the loafers, Adam noted, but that was just part of the Kenny charm.

“Better, right?” Kenny asked. He did a full turnaround and then jaunted over to Adam. He smoothed the lapel of his blazer down. “I didn’t give you a dress code, so I packed something nice to wear just in case. Didn’t wanna feel awkward in khakis, ya know?”

“Yeah, you look good,” Adam agreed, returning Kenny’s grin. They diverted their gaze to the floor together. Adam, trying to find something to say, exaggerated a look around the house. “Is this your uh, home?”

“Nope! I rented it on Air BnB,” Kenny said, proudly. “I’ve never used the app before, but it found this pretty sweet crib, so I’m impressed. A little pricey maybe, but for an evening, just for us? Worth it, I’d say.”

Adam heard Kenny but he couldn’t think of a response. It hit him that the food on the counter, the set table, the entire house, pointed-to one thing. Kenny had planned this. He had to look for a house, find one, pay for it, plan a menu, buy food, bring tableware, find time. He had planned this at personal expense. He had put real thought into setting-up a dinner for him and Adam. This wasn’t some off-the-cuff idea. The only improvised part about this was inviting Adam himself. And to think, Adam thought Kenny only wanted to Netflix and chill.

“I, uh, I got you these,” Adam stammered. He held out the flowers to Kenny. “Just, a housewarming, gift, I guess for — for you.”

“Oh, you did, thank you, Cowboy,” Kenny smiled, he took the bouquet from Adam. He hesitated, awkwardly gripping the plastic casing of the flowers.

“I guess, you can put it in some water?” Adam suggested. He scratched at the back of his head.

“Yeah, right, good idea,” Kenny nodded, he stepped back from Adam, lingered for a second, and then headed to the kitchen.

Adam followed Kenny and while Kenny tore through the cabinets in search of a vase, Adam took a second look. Beside the stove were three white bowls with flour, eggs, and panko crumbs. On the burner sat a large, cast-iron pot filled several inches deep with cooking oil. A thermometer rested beside the burner. Kenny exclaimed, “ah-ha,” When he came up with a vase. He filled it with water and settled the flowers in. Brow furrowed he poked a couple daisies upright. Kenny set the vase with the flowers in the middle of the table, as an impromptu centerpiece.

“There, that livens-up the place,” Kenny said, putting his hands on his hips. He smiled at Adam and the ocean, through the windows behind him, framed his face. His eyes bluer than the sea and Adam only just noticed he didn’t have his glasses on. Instead, the glasses were hooked in the pocket of his blazer. Adam was invited here, talking with Kenny, about to have dinner, and his trepidation only grew.

“Is this all for us?” Adam asked, he leaned against the kitchen doorway and shoved his hand in his pocket. With his other he gestured broadly at everything.

“Yeah, I thought it would be nice?” Kenny admitted, it was his turn to shrug. “Just us, for once. We haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together recently and there's some, some things I wanted to talk to you about. Stuff that's— that's better here maybe than at Daily’s Place. Is it too much?”

Kenny looked bashful, his smile soft, peering at Adam, his hand working over the back of a chair. It was nervous and sweet, open in a way that Adam hadn’t seen in months. Words were hard, but pushing off the doorpost and walking over to Kenny was easier. For a second, Adam’s hands hovered between them, and then he hooked his fingers beneath Kenny’s lapel. Kenny giggled and rested his forehead against Adam’s, his breath tickling Adam’s bottom lip.

“It’s perfect,” Adam murmured. He untangled from Kenny’s jacket and slid his hands down Kenny’s sides until Adam held his hips. Adam pushed his palms against the jut of Kenny's bone, “What's for dinner, chef Kenny?”

Kenny giggled and gripped at Adam’s hands. “Well, I was thinking,” he glanced back at the kitchen, “I’d make us Tonkatsu, you know, those pork cutlets you get in Japan, with the breading and cabbage? I haven’t had any in a while and it’s one of my favorite dishes. And I ordered sushi, and dessert, from a couple local places—”

“So, you’re cooking?” Adam asked, he quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, what’s so bad about that? I can cook,” Kenny protested. He pulled back from Adam and moved into the kitchen. Adam returned to his position by the doorpost as Kenny rummaged in the fridge. He pulled-out a bag of plastic boxes and then a platter of salted pork. Kenny rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid I’ll burn it? I promise only a little singe, for flavor. I mean it’s Tonkatsu, grade school children can make it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Adam laughed, he lifted his hands to placate Kenny. “It’s just, you never hit me as the cooking type. Order in and dine-out always seemed more your style.”

Kenny stuck his tongue out at Adam. He laughed though and turned the stove on to heat the oil. The plastic bag crinkled as Kenny sorted through small platters of elegant sushi and laid each on the counter. “We can eat this while the oil heats. I wish I had a nicer serving tray but I didn’t think to bring one, and this house doesn’t have one— I looked. Oh, and I don’t know how you feel about it, but I got some sake too. It’s in the fridge. Do you like it hot? I’ve never had it, so, I don’t know what’s better.”

“Man, I don’t even know,” Adam said. He never liked the flavor of sake —too dry for his taste— so he’d let the discussion drop and hope that was better than rejecting Kenny’s offer. Adam walked over to help Kenny carry the sushi to the table. “I got you milk, though, two percent. I uh— put it in the fridge.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Kenny smiled.

While Kenny removed the covers from the sushi, Adam fetched his meager contributions to the meal. He returned with the gallon of milk and an IPA. Adam poured Kenny a tall glass of milk and Kenny poured Adam’s beer. Teeth buried in his bottom lip, like this task was monumental, Kenny dumped the bottle into the glass. By the time the bubbles fizzed down, Adam’s ‘beer’ was mostly air. It was the thought that counted and Kenny looked pleased. Before sitting down himself, Kenny pulled-out Adam’s chair for him. Adam muttered his thanks and sat down. Kenny took his place on the opposite side of the table and used his chopsticks to divvy up the sushi pieces between them.

“Where’d you get this?” Adam asked.

“Sushiko, a small place by the river, Cody recommended it,” Kenny said. “It’s a nice little restaurant and we’re by the coast so the seafood is fresh. I mean it’s not really, authentic, but that’s hard to get in America anyway.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be good,” Adam countered. “Do you want the ginger?”

“Nah, you can have it,” Kenny said, to punctuate his point he picked up a heap of the ginger and plopped it onto Adam’s plate. “Do you remember how to use the chopsticks? It hasn’t been that long since you were last in Japan, right?”

“I order take-out once a month to keep my skills sharp,” Adam promised. He picked-up the chopsticks by his plate. Then, took the ends and stuck them beneath his top lip like a walrus, “Goes like this right?”

Kenny laughed, hand lifting to cover his mouth as his shoulders shook with racks of giggles. Adam smiled and wiped off his chopsticks with his napkin. It was the kinda joke he’d crack when he was ten, on the rare occasion his parents took the family out to eat. His sister would find it hilarious, his father and mother less so. Yet, it seemed to amuse Kenny to no end, and all that bashful shyness was gone when the laughter subsided.

“Yeah, close enough,” Kenny said, waving his hand. “Here you should try the tempura roll, it’s my favorite of all the inaccurate American sushis.”

Kenny picked up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks and offered it over the table for Adam to try. Adam didn’t point out that he already had a piece of that type on his plate. He only leaned forward and opened his mouth so Kenny could feed him the sushi. Adam bit down and savored the taste of shrimp, rice, and crunchy breading.

“It’s good,” he said, nodding and humming his approval.

“Isn’t it?” Kenny asked, he jammed a roll with avocado in his mouth and grinned, pleased. “It’s kinda cliché, but I love this stuff.”

Adam took a sip from his beer to wash down the rice gummed behind his teeth.

“I’ve always meant to ask,” Kenny said, he pointed with his chopsticks at the beer. “Do you... like that stuff?”

“Beer? Yeah, pretty well, it’s not my favorite drink,” Adam admitted. He ate another piece of sushi and chewed through his thoughts. “It has to be a good beer, the cheap crap isn’t worth the calories. Pleases the hell out of a crowd though.”

“Yeah, don’t you have to drive back?” Kenny’s brow furrowed.

Adam laughed, “A beer or two isn’t going to send me over, Kenny. It's not like liquor, it's a much lower alcohol content. I probably won't even feel the buzz, especially drinking on food. By the time I leave, I'll be close to zero. I try to keep track of my limits these days, and you know, it’s hard to be no carb and take shots.”

“Trainers got you on no carb?” Kenny asked, with a lifted brow. It was a quick change of topic and Adam appreciated the tact.

“Yeah, have been for a while now, it’s probably better that way,” Adam shrugged. “You know not all of us shred fat like you.”

“Well, that’s not so easy these days,” Kenny admitted. “Not all of us are as young as you.”

“Hey, a few months and I’ll be thirty,” Adam pointed-out. “Or like, twenty-four by Cody’s metric, something like that.”

“You can’t say that being youngest wasn’t a good shake,” Kenny said. “You never had to pay for anything.”

“Just all the ribbing,” Adam grinned.

Adam popped some ginger in his mouth and waggled his eyebrows for emphasis. Kenny was all grins and the smiles were a relief. This wasn’t a total cluster fuck and Adam hadn’t said something to screw-up the mood. This was going much better than his anxiety allowed him to anticipate. A pause to eat lulled the conversation to a brief silence. Yet, Adam could tell by the way Kenny studied his Philadelphia roll, there was something on his mind.

“So, uh, last night,” Kenny said, he placed his elbow on the table. “Did you sign a contract with Matt Hardy? Did I interpret that segment correctly? I was preparing for my match so I wasn’t really paying attention, but—”

Adam paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, and then he grinned. “I did.”

“Did you read that contract?” Kenny probed. “Listen, I know you and Hardy go back but I’m not sure you should trust that guy, Page. He’s a bit of a carny— I mean his gimmick is ‘Big Money Matt.’ That has got to be a warning sign. I know Matt and Nick brought him in by burying his vessel or whatever, but he’s changed a lot since the Stadium Stampede. He’s got the whole, I guess split personality thing going on?”

“Oh, I read the contract I signed,” Adam nodded. He savored the taste of a Dragon roll, fishy and popping with acidity. “Hardy didn’t, but I did.”

“Oh, really,” Kenny waxed, he pressed his finger tips to his chin. “Something you wanna fill me in on?”

“Yeah, I switched the contracts,” Adam said.

Kenny gasped, “You switched the contracts?! Oh, ho, Page, I knew you were smart, brilliant, tell me everything.”

“Well, I knew he was going to invite me to a bar, because he said so on Twitter,” Adam began. “Like, you said, I’ve known Matt for a while and he’s always been a dick. He was talking all about how I’m going to be some great star or the ‘top guy’ in AEW, or whatever, some bullshit, but I kinda figured his plan was to get me drunk and willing to sign something stupid.”

He leaned back in his chair, sipping on his beer and thinking. Adam couldn’t get why every other manager in AEW was salivating at the idea of getting him on their payroll. The Dark Order was trying to recruit him. Taz was talking about him. Matt Hardy seemed to think Adam was the second coming of Jesus. Adam assumed that he was so sought after because the actual best wrestler in AEW was already spoken-for. And Jon Moxley wasn’t the type to tolerate companionship. So, that left Adam Page. Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel.

“So, I uh, had a little something prepared for him,” Adam shrugged. “I don’t think he’s figured it out yet, so like, don’t go spreading it around? Snitches get stitches, Kenny, and I mean it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Kenny promised. He pantomimed zipping-up his mouth, locking it, and throwing away the key. He leaned forward, hand bracing against the table. “But really, what was in the contract?’

“You wanna know?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, I wanna know!” Kenny said.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” Adam smirked. “You’ll just have to find-out with Matt Hardy and everyone else. I don’t wanna pop the surprise.”

“Aw, Pizz, you’re killing me, now that’s all I’m going to think about for the rest of the night!” Kenny laughed, he deflated into his chair. Then he bounced back, livened with an idea. “Oh, I know, you made it so you get a third of his merch sales? A half?! Man, that’s brutal. Ooh, I know what you should’ve done, what I would do? Make him your butler for a few weeks, that would be funny.”

Adam chuckled, cheeks flushed with amusement. All he did was shake his head and keep his mouth shut. Kenny gave-up, lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. While they ate, Kenny talked about the Women’s Title Eliminator tournament and all that went into organizing it. He seemed excited to debut the woman’s bracket next week. He promised that he had seen the matches, and they were, “fantastic.” In particular he was ecstatic about Aja Kong and Yuka progressing. Adam had no idea who Maki Itoh was beyond her Twitter, but Kenny was adamant she get a contract at some point. On his part Adam was happy to sit back —long after polishing off his own plate— and listen to Kenny, occasionally interjecting a question or an affirming, “mhm.” Eventually, Kenny got around to eating his last piece of sushi. His eyes darted beyond Adam’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet to go check on the oil.

Adam turned in his seat to watch Kenny in the kitchen. He was eyeing a thermometer dipped in the pot. Pleased with the temperature, he moved to start working with the meat. Kenny used a skewer to dip a pork cutlet into the flour, then egg, then back into the flour. Adam cleared the sushi plates from the table. He rinsed them in the sink. He cleaned a few other dishes, cutting boards, and knives, listening to Kenny complain about getting flour on his fingers. Adam put the dishes on the rack and dried his hands on a towel. He wandered to Kenny’s side. Kenny had coated two cutlets in panko crumbs and the breaded meat sat on a plate ready to go. He fiddled with the thermometer, brow furrowed in concentration. He adjusted the temperature on the stove and then gripped the pot handle to center it on the burner. He hissed when his hand touched hot metal. Kenny stuck his finger in his mouth.

“Hot,” he breathed to Adam.

“Yeah, no shit, go rinse it under the cold water,” Adam ordered. “Are you okay?”

“Just my pride,” Kenny said, as he ran his finger under the faucet and washed his hands of flour. “I thought I was going to be so cool, making Tonkatsu for you, and you’d be like, ‘wow, look at Kenny be a boss in the kitchen,’ and now I’m just kinda—”

He returned to the stove and looked at the simmering oil with particular trepidation.

“Now, I’m just kinda nervous,” he admitted, smiling again. “Like, I don’t want to fuck this up and ruin the evening, or something.”

“Do you want help?” Adam asked.

“How heroic,” Kenny pined. “A cowboy come to save me.”

“Yeah, yeah, mostly I just don’t want the food burned,” Adam said, stepping to Kenny’s side. He nudged his hip against Kenny’s and picked-up a skewer. The task was simple, pick-up the two pieces of meat and plunge them into the boiling oil. Yet, when Adam did it, Kenny looked at him like he did something astounding. Adam handed the tongs to Kenny, “you can flip them on your own, right?”

“Pfft, I got that,” Kenny bragged, taking the utensil from Adam. He positioned himself, watching as bubbles formed around the meat. The panko browned to an appetizing gold. As the meat cooked, it exuded juices that caused the oil to spit. Kenny yelped, when some struck his arm, shifting behind Adam. “Unless it fights back?!”

“Aren’t you the guy who fought a G1 with a fractured heel?!” Adam snapped. “Don’t be a baby, it’s just oil, it’s not going to bite you! Get in there.”

Kenny patted Adam’s shoulder and shifted to plunge the tongs into the oil. He flipped both pieces of meat. Although, he held the tongs at the furthest extent to avoid oil splatter. Adam placed his hand on the small of Kenny’s back to hold him steady as they waited the last minute for the meat to finish. It was such a simple gesture but Kenny’s nerves seemed to evaporate under his touch. Kenny fished out the cutlets and placed them diagonally on a draining rack. The cooking done, Kenny kicked Adam out of the kitchen while he finished the rest of the meal. Adam returned to the dining table, sat down, and enjoyed his beer. The soothing melody of Kenny banging around behind him as background noise.

A few minutes later, Kenny placed a plate in front of Adam. The cutlet had been sliced thin and fanned across the edge of the plate. A generous heap of shredded cabbage piled in the middle garnished with a slice of tomato and lemon. On the side were pickled radishes. The colors popped and the meat smelled delicious. Kenny laid a small container of pouring sauce between them on the table. Kenny sat down with his own plate across from Adam.

“This is so— great, Kenny,” Adam breathed, looking over the food. He picked-up his chopsticks and dove in for the Tonkatsu. It was juicy and savory, with a nice crunch. Adam groaned, “It tastes fantastic.”

“Thanks, I was worried about overcooking it, but with you at my side, it was easy,” Kenny said, he smiled. He poured some sauce on his cutlet. “We make a great team.”

Adam focused on pinching some cabbage between his chopsticks, eyes casting down to the plate. “Yeah, I— I guess we do.”

“Hey, it was just an observation,” Kenny said, he nudged Adam’s foot under the table with his own. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

“No, no, it’s fine,” Adam said. He took a sip of beer but didn’t taste it. “You’re right, I was just thinking— I’ve tagged with a lot of people lately, and none of them are like you. You really are the best.”

“That’s sweet, cowboy,” Kenny grinned, but Adam sensed the need to change the conversation. Mourning the tag-team wasn’t uplifting for either of them.

“So, where did you learn to make this?” Adam asked. He gestured at the Tonkatsu. “’Cause it’s really good. Not going to lie, that’s what I miss about Japan— the food. They just don’t have the same, I don’t know, style? Yeah, style, in America.”

“Well, I learned from one of the ladies I stayed with when I first moved to Japan in, 2008, well, kinda learned,” Kenny elaborated. He shrugged, “mostly I just watched her cook and sometimes she let me help. She always did the bits with the oil because she was afraid I’d burn myself. My Japanese wasn’t good back then but I’m pretty sure she thought I was just an idiot.”

“I mean, you can be a bit,” Adam paused. Kenny pressed his lips thin, so he picked his next word carefully, “ditzy?”

“I’ll give you that,” Kenny said. “I wouldn’t trust me around a big pot of boiling oil either. You handled yourself pretty well in there, though.”

“Deep fried is a staple food in the rural south," Adam said. "It's a survival skill, where I'm from. It's okay, Kenny, you can kick my ass Street Fighter, later, so that way we're even."

The conversation slowed so they could finish eating. Just the sounds of chewing and chopsticks clacking. It was good, the cabbage contrasting to the meat, and the sauce adding a hint of sweetness. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfy silence, Adam wasn't looking for an excuse to breach it. It was just them, together, enjoying the mutual company. When Adam finished eating, just to gross out Kenny, he picked up his plate and licked it clean. The gesture had the intended effect of making Kenny screw-up his nose and expression. Adam took his last swig of beer and then carried both their plates to the sink. Adam helped Kenny tidy-up the kitchen. Adam washed the dishes and Kenny dried, putting the plates away on the shelves. They moved around each other like this was something they did every night. Yet, each time Kenny’s elbow jostled Adam or he moved a step closer, a warm heat spread across Adam’s skin. It was dark outside when they finished and Kenny turned on lights in the house to illuminate the rooms.

“You up for cake, cowboy?” Kenny asked as he returned. He took a box out from the fridge and finagled the lid open. Inside the box was a small, white cake decorated with vanilla icing, raspberries, and fancy swirls. Kenny smacked Adam’s hand away when he tried to taste the frosting.

"Ow," Adam grunted. He cradled his hand to his chest.

“I didn’t really know what you liked, but everyone likes vanilla, so I figured I couldn't go wrong,” Kenny admitted as he took the cake out of the box. Adam got plates and a knife to cut with. Kenny stuck his tongue out as he sliced into the cake. It was obnoxiously cute. He pointed with the knife, “Is this big enough?”

“That’ll do it,” Adam said.

Kenny sliced the cake and put a piece on a plate that he handed to Adam, then cut his own piece. The inner filling of the cake was a bright red raspberry and Adam hummed, eager. to try Kenny took a fork and cut off a small piece of his cake slice. He offered the morsel to Adam. Once again, Adam let Kenny feed him. It was sweet, with a delicate crumb, and acidic with the fruit. Kenny opened his mouth, making an ‘ah’ sound, to indicate he wanted Adam to return the gesture. Adam obliged, watching with fascination as Kenny’s lips closed around the fork. A speck of icing trapped at the corner of his mouth. Before he could stop himself, Adam leaned forward and kissed it off— grinning all the way back as Kenny’s cheeks flushed.

“You remember when we tricked that waitress into giving us free cake?” Kenny asked. His eyes lit-up, to divert his attention though, he glanced down for another bite. “That was— fun.”

“I don’t think we tricked anybody,” Adam laughed. "I think the waitress knew what was up the whole damn time."

“What, we weren’t a convincing couple?” Kenny asked. The question so earnest, his voice so soft, that Adam almost dropped his plate. Deep in Kenny's eyes hid a kernel of curious probing. Like he was testing the waters. Wading-out waist high in a surging tide.

“I— um, I guess we were.” Adam ducked his head, but Kenny shoved at his shoulder and the tension dissipated.

“I’m just teasing you, Hangers,” he laughed. “Eat your cake, before I do. Hey, I know, why don’t we go sit outside? C’mon.”

Kenny had already split off and so that settled it. Adam got a beer from the fridge and followed Kenny out the back door. At the edge of the pool was a small sitting area with chairs and a couch. The ocean crashed against the shore, loud and echoing in Adam's inner-ear. He felt the tide wearing away the sand in his teeth. Kenny sat down on the couch, tossing his phone on the coffee table. He crossed his legs up and finished off his cake. Adam joined him on the other side of the couch. They remarked on the flavors of the cake and speculated if the icing was cream cheese or not. Finished eating, Kenny put his plate down and lounged back against the cushions.

Adam studied Kenny’s profile. His straight nose and angular jaw, the untamed stubble on his cheeks. His lips pink with red raspberries. In red and black, he looked marvelous. The wind tussling his curls. And his eyes, so scarce these days, holding every emotion Adam hoped to see reflected in them. Adam’s heart collided with the inside of his ribs. He took his last bite of cake and put aside the dishes. Then, for courage, he swigged on his beer and set that aside too. He leaned into the cushions, adjusting a pillow underneath his right elbow.

“Hey,” he said, voice coarse and weak, the word lost to the ocean. Kenny looked at him, hearing him anyway, and Adam opened his arms wide, “What are you doing over there? Get your ass over here.”

Kenny slid over until he leaned against Adam’s side. Adam swung his legs up onto the couch and pulled Kenny against his chest. Kenny settled between his legs and Adam draped his arm over Kenny’s back. Something dislodged in Adam’s lungs and he breathed easy for the first time in months. Kenny sighed and pressed his cheek to Adam’s collarbone. His hand ran over Adam’s bicep. Adam reached over Kenny, picked-up his beer, and took another casual swig. Part of him regretted the alcohol because now his breath must smell like beer and cake. The other part of him needed it to function in this moment.

Adam drew broad circles between Kenny’s shoulder blades, feeling each hard muscle, defined and strong beneath his hand. Kenny was warm in contrast to the cool night, like a little personal heater. Adam chuckled, content as he leaned back against the arm rest. Kenny turned his face into Adam’s chest and buried his nose into Adam’s shirt. He shuddered in Adam’s arms, a full body tremble working all the way down his spine. Adam lifted his hand to work his fingers through Kenny’s hair and curls. A little coarser now since he dyed it, black and silver. Adam didn’t know what else to say or think, or do. Didn’t know if this was Kenny using him for comfort or something more. If he was supposed to read between the lines, look for the fine text, or just be a quiet and good pillow. Maybe, he'd just pretend that the way Kenny clung to him was because of love.

“I like your hair like this,” Adam mused. He ran his fingers through Kenny’s scalp. It was an easier question than: why did you bring me here? What do you want from me? What are we?

“Thanks,” Kenny muttered. He turned his cheek to press against Adam’s chest. Adam considered that an improvement.

“Are you okay?” He managed.

Kenny sighed, shoulders heaving. He wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and cinched in, holding him close. It was the total experience of being owned. That Adam was Kenny’s to have and hold onto. It was possessive in a way that thrilled Adam. That there were seven billion people on this planet and he was the one Kenny Omega invited to a rented house for dinner. Adam was the one who got to hold Kenny Omega, not anyone else. Adam was the one Kenny Omega wanted to be held by. It had to mean something. He wanted it to mean something. Please, let it mean something.

“It’s just,” Kenny whispered. His voice soft, but Adam carded his fingers through Kenny’s hair to encourage each word forth. “Sometimes, I realize one day I could die. I could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. There’s be no one to miss me and that— that terrifies me more than death itself.”

Then, Kenny laughed, shaking his head, giggling like he said something funny. Not something that Adam had no idea how to react to. Every word of it raised a protest inside Adam though. That he cared, that he would notice, that he would be devastated to lose Kenny. That he lost Kenny once and he had no intentions of ever doing it again. Except, Adam had no idea how to say all that in a way that made sense. When he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out but a huff of carbon dioxide. Kenny tensed, feeling Adam’s diaphragm tighten. It was as if Adam’s anxiety infused and intertwined with Kenny's, into something ugly between them. Adam could just hold Kenny tighter and that would make Kenny understand. Hold so tight to Kenny that he couldn’t leave, couldn’t go anywhere, and they’d just fit together, and it’d work.

Except, Adam was no longer so young and stupid as to believe that would work. It wasn’t enough to ask Kenny, ‘do you trust me,’ when he already breached that trust. Adam couldn’t hold on alone, they had to meet in the middle. These things had to be mutual. This was a two street and Adam had no idea if Kenny was walking towards him or away. He was just a blur in the distance that he was chasing like hell. As if, when he caught Kenny, he’d get the answers to the questions he was too afraid to ask.

Kenny shifted, pushing back against Adam and the awkward silence between them. The silence Adam let linger too long. He wondered if just screaming would work better than this. Kenny sat-up, and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. He clung to one of Adam’s hands like it was a life raft in the middle of that ocean out there. They sat thigh-to-thigh, hip-to-hip. Maybe, that’s how Adam felt, like Kenny was drowning and all he could do was yell advice from the shoreline.

“Look,” Kenny began, he licked his lips. He stared at where their knees touched. Adam could feel Kenny's pulse fluttering beneath his fingers. “There’s something I gotta tell you.”

Kenny giggled again, shoulders shaking and Adam had no idea what the joke was. He placed his other, free hand on Kenny’s shoulder.

“I set all of this up to tell you, but I— I don’t know what to say,” He admitted. He shook his head and squeezed Adam’s hand.

“Whatever, whatever you feel, man,” Adam offered, lamely. “You know I’m here for you.”

“Look—” Kenny began.

He looked-up, gunmetal blue eyes matching Adam’s gaze. The warm glow from the house burned his cheeks gold and he shivered. Kenny was scared, the thought hit Adam like a gunshot. Terrified, looking at Adam, like Adam was going to hurt him. Like a whipped dog anticipating being taken out back.

“Adam, I—” he began, then a sharp chime cut him off.

Both Kenny and Adam looked down at Kenny’s phone on the coffee table. Don Callis, calling Kenny, the phone vibrating against the glass. Kenny withdrew his hand, untangling from Adam, scooting away. Like, he'd been burned and scalded, like he just put his hand back on that pot handle and this time gripped tight. “I’m not— I’m not going to answer it. I— I told him I’d be busy,” Kenny stammered, his hands working through his hair. There was a bite to his tone that set Adam’s heart on fire. “I don’t know why he’s calling me he should know.”

As Kenny’s pitch hitched and his voice cracked, Adam lunged forward to hit the decline button on the phone. The phone stopped ringing and Kenny sighed, his face stricken pale. Adam himself breathed for the first time in almost a minute, slowly leaning back into the couch. His hands rested on his knees. The ocean crashed and receded.

“He can leave a damn voice mail,” Adam managed, cracking a half-grin but when he looked at Kenny it was not returned. Instead, Adam met wild eyes and a pale face, white with fear. In a few seconds it calmed, the war raging in Kenny dying down as he glanced away from Adam. As Adam watched Kenny pulled the glasses-free from his front pocket and shoved them on his face. He licked his lips, jaw working tight. “Kenny, is everything okay?”

“Fine, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Kenny repeated, his hands rubbed over his thighs. “I’m not— I’m not going to keep you, you can go. It was— It was fun tonight, thanks.”

Kenny lifted and waved his hand as if to dismiss Adam. Adam’s felt his temper go through the roof, just a moment of complete rage that calmed immediately. There were no words, just screaming like if he opened his mouth, a long drawn howl would escape instead of anything coherent. And that was the best he could do to express the emotions in his head. His teeth gritted and Adam rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to clear out the thoughts from his head.

“No, wait, Kenny what did you want to tell me?” Adam asked. “What were you trying to say before Don called?”

“All, I wanted to do was just tell you that— that,” Kenny stuttered, and Adam had no faith that what came out of his mouth next was the truth. “That you can always talk to me if you need it. That, that I’m here for you, Page, and like, that you don’t need to go signing stupid contracts with Matt Hardy, but you didn’t so, it’s really not a problem. You— you didn’t need me.”

“Is that it?” Adam asked, he glanced around the house. Thought of the sushi and the home-cooked meal. Of cake and Kenny dressing nice just for Adam. “You did all this, just to tell me that? Are you sure that’s what you wanted to tell me?”

“What do you think?” Kenny asked, he peered at Adam. The glasses and his expression were like a brick wall. Impassive, unreadable, and drawing Adam to a total stop. Adam’s stomach twisted, lips parted in unvoiced confusion. Adam couldn’t answer the question because he was afraid of what Kenny thought. Kenny didn't love him, Kenny didn't care, Kenny was using him.

“Seriously, Page, I’m fine— you can leave if you want,” Kenny repeated. “It was fun tonight.”

“No, no, no, Kenny,” Adam interjected. “No, I’m not just leaving, I’m not going anywhere until I get some damn answers about what the hell is going on. I’ve been out of my mind for months trying to figure us— this, out. It ain’t even just about what you did to Moxley or any of the other crap. I was with you in Japan, I know how you are. Excalibur may be scandalized but I was there when you won the Intercontinental title off Tanahashi. I know how it goes. What gets me, is that you hadn’t done that shit since Japan. Ever since Don Callis came back you’ve been acting weird and I think by this point I deserve some damn answers.”

“Okay, fine, fine, what do you want to know?” Kenny demanded. He crossed his arms over his stomach. “I am an open book.”

“It’s just, I don’t know—” Adam stumbled over his words, the real questions getting in the way of the ones he could actually ask. What are we? So, instead, he stumbled-on, “Are you sure you can trust Don?”

“Of course, I can,” Kenny scoffed. “We’re changing the business Adam, changing the world, history! All those solid steel doors, those arbitrary barriers in our sport? They’re gone now! Impact, New Japan, NWA, Stardom, they’re all clamoring to get a spot on our show. We are the hottest thing in wrestling, not WWE, us. Tony Khan, the Bucks, and Cody, the whole locker room, they should be thanking us, we’re giving them jobs, improving their pay checks, and what do we get?! Just like you said, Excalibur on commentary with a bad attitude. No one else shares my vision, no one else gets it, not like Don does.”

Kenny shook his head, curls flopping around. He spoke fast, quickly, trying to get to the next words as soon as possible.

“I thought that was all bullshit,” Adam admitted. “Just shit Don was making-up to justify taking the title.”

“Page, please!” Kenny said, his hand fluttering in Adam’s direction. “We’ve been planning something like this for years. This isn’t a mere money-making scheme, Don isn’t like Matt Hardy. And yeah, maybe that means I can’t be around Matt and Nick as much anymore, maybe the locker room hates me, maybe I’m not as popular with the audience— big deal. They’ll come around, they always come around, they’ll realize how much I’ve done for them. People change, this is— this is bigger than any one person.”

“Oh, Don isn’t like Matt Hardy?” Adam asked, he lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Kenny pushed to his feet and Adam stood too. Kenny’s hands fluttered around and something flexed in his jaw like he was chewing on sand. His voice was darker, biting with anger as he shook his finger at Adam. “Don’t even start with me, Page, about who to trust. We both know your track record.”

“Matt Hardy doesn’t give a shit about me,” Adam stated. Kenny stepped-in like it was a warning, but Adam squared his shoulders and with a look wilted Kenny. Adam took sick satisfaction in the inch or two of height he had. To lift his chin, and stand his ground. “And Don Callis doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Don is like family to me,” Kenny snapped, his finger jutted into Adam’s face, his voice lifting in pitch and volume. Adam couldn’t remember if they ever got to this point with each other, yelling. No, he remembered some shoves in the ring. “He cares about me. I know he does. I’ve known him since I was a child, Page. It’s not the same thing.”

Adam worked his teeth into his bottom lips. He placed his hand on his hips and glanced towards the ocean. Black and churning, the waves thrown in turmoil, rolling, clawing-up the beach to high tide. Adam let himself feel the wind in his hair and his pounding heart. He glanced back at Kenny.

Back in the day, Biz Cliz days, the Bullet Club, and the Elite was Kenny’s family. They were the ones who looked after him after matches. They were the ones who fetched ice or hot packs for his injuries. They were the ones at ringside. The ones in his tag-teams. The ones who helped him pick-out clothes or get in his ring gear. Adam thought they were family and he had fought like hell for that family. Scrabbled to keep the little niche of home he’d found, that place he belonged. He spared a thought, that something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. So wrong, that Kenny, went to someone else instead of his family. FTR, the Dark Order, Matt Hardy, the Good Brothers, Don, all these side distractions instead of the stable that cared about them. Egos blew-up, friendships faded, but it took more than a couple of arguments to break the Elite. There was a looming specter, sticking his fingers in the crack. Adam may’ve left the Elite but he always thought there’d be something to go back to. He never thought his absence would unravel his friends— never dreamed it.

He didn’t even think they’d notice he was gone.

“Does your family usually hit you with a microphone?” Adam asked.

Kenny’s lips parted, his jaw falling slack. His shoulders drooped and then he rubbed his hand beneath the rims of his glasses. He crossed his arms, gaze turning downwards. Adam’s hands fell to his sides, feeling that the fight was over. Kenny shook his head as if to physically dislodge Adam’s words from his skull. Kenny was a fighter, he was a leader, he was a crazy visionary, who did his own thing. He always had an argument in him. He always kicked-out. He fought sixty minute matches against Okada. The way he capitulated in defeat here and now was fascinating because it was so against him. It was like Adam pushed back and found nothing but dust. That he had glanced back over his shoulder and suddenly Kenny had turned to salt. A pillar of salt, crumbling in Adam’s hands. A divine and cruel trick, stealing from him what he most desired, at the last possible second.

Adam sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. Then, Kenny lurched forward and pressed his forehead into Adam’s shoulder. Adam closed his eyes and reached-up to tangle his fingers back in Kenny’s hair. He worked out a knot and then smoothed his palm down Kenny’s back. Kenny trembled against him, fingers twisted in Adam’s shirt. It was a desperate grip, like this attention and concern was foreign to Kenny. Like he was starved and Adam supposed that made sense because this didn’t feel like something Don Callis would do. Because Don Callis didn't care about Kenny. He wouldn't take care of Kenny, not like his friends would— like they were supposed to. They had failed Kenny and so he went to someone else. (They had failed Adam and so he had went to someone else). Adam hummed, low in his throat, and buried his nose in Kenny’s hair. He smelled of cologne and sea salt, and everything Adam missed.

“Forget about Don,” Adam said. “I— I shouldn’t’ve said that, it’s none of my damn business.”

“I just don’t want to fight with you,” Kenny admitted. “I don’t— I don’t deserve you, Page.”

“Nah, don’t say that,” Adam shook his head. “Because if you were gone, you know I’d miss you, right? I ain’t got that many friends left, Kenny. You’re special to me.”

“Charmer,” Kenny grunted.

“Can’t coast on just my good looks, you know,” Adam chuckled. He wrapped both his arms around Kenny and drew him tighter. Knowing that he was being used. Knowing that they were no closer now than they were before. “Gotta have some personality.”

“Hmm, but you are good-looking,” Kenny agreed. His hands smoothed down Adam’s side, unabashed in feeling the muscles and curves of his waist. “You’re very handsome, cowboy.”

Adam chuckled as Kenny wrapped his arms around him. It felt good to be needed. Good to be wanted and held. To be possessed by someone. Adam wanted Kenny to own him. But, he wasn’t sure if it was real or if Adam was just here, and hot, and it worked.

“I can stay,” Adam murmured. “Just one night, you and me, like— like in the hotel.”

“You— you want to?” Kenny asked. He pulled from Adam to look at him, or rather let Adam look at his glasses. “I have an extra toothbrush.”

“Good, because all my shit is at the hotel,” Adam said, flashing a grin.

Adam tapped Kenny on the back to urge him back inside. Adam carried in the plates and his mostly undrunk beer. At the kitchen sink, he chugged a few big gulps and poured the rest of the alcohol down the drain. Adam rinsed and cleaned the dishes, while Kenny finished tidying-up behind him. The domesticity was intoxicating, giving Adam more of a buzz than the beer. It was deceptive too. For a second, Adam could pretend they did this little ritual every night. Clean-up after dinner, put-away all the dishes, and then, turn off the kitchen lights, head for bed. As Adam followed Kenny down the hall to the master bedroom, he rubbed the sweat off his palms and onto his pants legs.

The master bedroom had a large bed, a couch, desk and chair, and a TV on a stand. A sliding door connected to the back patio outside. Airy, light blue curtain hung over the windows and glass. The walls were painted white and the bedding was blue. The typical beach decor was as bland as the rest of the house. Kenny rummaged around in a suitcase, left on a couch with a few stray articles of clothes on the cushions. He procured a set of soft fabric shorts and tossed them to Adam.

“I don’t sleep in pajamas like you do, Pizz,” Kenny said. His early energy was gone and he said all of it like it was a statement of fact. Adam didn't doubt Kenny's ability to put on a show though. Even if he felt like shit he'd find a way to hide it. “So, you’ll just have to do with my work-out clothes. I washed them, I promise.”

“Are you going to sleep in your X-men undies again?” Adam teased. Kenny found a toothbrush but instead of handing it to Adam, he chucked it at Adam’s head. Adam caught the flung toothbrush with a clap of his hands. “Hey, I like Wolverine!”

“No, for the record I wore briefs this time,” Kenny said. He shrugged off his blazer and smiled softly, almost regretfully. “I came prepared.”

Adam stepped around the edge of the room, watching as Kenny peeled off his shirt. He’d seen Kenny shirtless a thousand times. He could map each expanse and stretch of muscle, the powerful curve of his back, his thick arms, and broad shoulders. This time felt special, significant, especially when Kenny glanced over his shoulder at Adam and caught him watching. Adam ducked his head and escaped into the bathroom.

Once the door was closed behind him, he stared at himself in the mirror. Adam splashed cold water on his face and then brushed his teeth. He changed into Kenny’s shorts, used the toilet, and left, wiping his hands on the hand towel. Kenny had changed into a pair of sweat pants and he was yanking the curtains closed over the window. Adam walked-up behind him, hooked an arm around Kenny’s waist and pulling him back to his chest.

“I’ll wait for you in bed,” Adam murmured, dipping his head to speak in Kenny’s ear. “Don’t take too long, I’m tired.”

“Yes, sir,” Kenny chuckled. “You know, I like it when you boss me around.”

“Make sure you wash behind your ears,” Adam ordered, severely.

Adam tapped Kenny’s hip and sent him off towards the bathroom. He turned off the bedroom lights and the nightstand lamp then slid underneath the covers of the bed. It felt like this would be easier if he didn’t have to look at Kenny. Then they wouldn’t have to face anything, just be with each other. The bed was softer than Adam was used to and he fought the mattress to roll over on his side, punching at the pillow to get it shaped right. The ocean rumbled and Adam sighed, exhaling with the tide. He heard the bathroom door open and the latch close behind Kenny. He heard each pad of Kenny’s footsteps on the carpet before the mattress dipped and Kenny slid into bed. Adam rolled over, reaching for Kenny and guiding him closer. Kenny shimmied over and Adam tucked his arm over Kenny’s side, his hand resting over Kenny’s stomach. He pressed his nose into Kenny’s neck and Kenny hooked his calf around Adam’s leg to bring them flush. Every inch of Kenny’s body pressed against Adam. Kenny laid his hand over Adam’s and intertwined their fingers. Kenny rumbled, content, then slid his foot down to put his ice cold toes on Adam’s ankle. Adam jerked, cussing, and Kenny giggled.

Adam’s eyes fluttered closed. Kenny’s breath as gentle as the ocean. He’d been dreaming about this for months, having Kenny back here. The memory of the hotel room a poor substitute for having him under Adam’s arm. Warm, heavy, his pulse tangled with Adam’s. Adam wiggled his arm underneath Kenny and clutched him tighter. He nuzzled his nose into Kenny’s neck. Here he could say anything. Anything at all, whisper it and pretend Kenny was sleeping, and Kenny could pretend he was sleeping if he didn’t want to hear it. And it’d be like a confession, words lost to empty air, absolution offered to wash them clean. Adam opened his mouth and nothing came out. Instead his lips moved and he mouthed, “I love you.” Without uttering a single sound. Then again, “I love you.”

“Adam,” Kenny grunted, and Adam almost panicked, wondering for a second if he had actually said those things out loud. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Adam asked, sleep dragged at his mind, making him a little dumb.

“Staying,” Kenny said. “I know I— I freak-out on you there.”

“It's fine,” Adam whispered. “It happens. Wanna hear a crazy idea I have?”

Kenny shifted, wiggling in Adam’s arms to turn over. Adam grunted when Kenny dug his elbow into his ribs so he could leverage himself onto his opposite side. Kenny buried his face in Adam’s chest and Adam wondered if that was just how he preferred to sleep. Adam rolled onto his back and dragged Kenny with him. He let his fingers play with the ends of Kenny’s hair as the other hand interlaced with Kenny’s on his stomach. Kenny settled himself and Adam licked his lips, just stupid enough to share this crazy idea.

“Hit me, cowboy,” Kenny ordered.

“We leave in the morning,” Adam suggested. “I don’t know where to, maybe nowhere specific, but it’s just the two of us. Sleeping in motels, eating shit at dinners, and working the indies— making like fifty bucks a show, so there’s never enough money but we make it work. Maybe we’re a tag-team again or it’s just us in singles. We dominate the competition, earn those dumb little regional belts we used to own. No more stakes, no more crap, just— wrestling, fun as it used to be.”

“We’d be recognized,” Kenny muttered, and Adam remembered the goofy BTE bits he used to shoot down for Kenny. Poking holes in the logic or saying the joke wasn’t funny. All because he was afraid of committing to an idea. Turn about was fair play he guessed. “We could— we could wear masks.”

“You ever wrestle in a mask?” Adam asked.

“No,” Kenny admitted.

“Sucks,” Adam grunted, “And the moment you did a One-Winged Angel, everyone would know who you are. It’d just be El Generico all over again.”

“We should go horse riding,” Kenny suggested, he yawned. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Next time you’re in Virginia,” Adam promised. “I’ll take you.”

“Mhmm, maybe that should be sooner, rather than later,” Kenny smiled. He settled then and Adam shut-up so he could sleep. In a few moments Kenny breathed easily, and steadily, his eyes closed. Adam twirled a black curl around his finger, absent-minded.

“I love you,” he said, to the empty room. An observation, a statement of fact, Adam kissed the top of Kenny’s head. This time, he whispered into those curls, “I love you.”

And then he adjusted himself so he was comfortable in the pillows. Adam sagged, the tension bleeding out of his stiff frame like water. Kenny mumbled softly in his sleep and Adam tucked him close to his side. Thoughts twisted-up in his head, Adam drifted unconscious. Then, when his eyes opened, the room was bright, light spilling in through the thin curtain. The sea raged and the gulls cried. His arm was dead weight, asleep. Adam blinked, lifting his head. In the night, he and Kenny had shifted. Kenny’s head laid on his bicep as he slept. His hand rested on Adam’s chest, fingers crooked. Needing blood flow back in his fingers, Adam slipped his arm out from under Kenny’s head. He sat-up in the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. Adam opened and closed his hand, fingertips tingling painfully. He looked down at Kenny.

His hair was in total disarray, tangled on the pillows. A little bit of drool welled at the corner of his parted lips and he breathed rough, long, slow. Without Adam, he turned onto his side. Adam slid out of the bed. He found his jeans and changed back into his clothes. Adam stepped into his boots and returned to the kitchen. He rummaged in the fridge, the options were meager. Eggs, ketchup, cheese, milk, and luckily, a pack of bacon— probably stuff Kenny bought specifically for breakfast, based on the large container of protein powder beside the fridge. He poked through the cabinets and found the flour from last night, but also sugar, baking powder, cheap imitation vanilla, and salt.

Adam was methodical as he cracked eggs to scramble and for pancakes. He whipped-up the batter in a bowl and found the frying pans in a lower drawer. The back burner slow-cooked bacon with a tantalizing sizzle and on a front burner, Adam cooked the pancakes. Making just enough for him and Kenny. He cleaned-up as he went, leaving dishes on the drying rack. He did the eggs last, scrambling them with cheese and pepper, when he heard the water run, indicating Kenny was up and using the bathroom. A few minutes later Kenny wandered into the kitchen, rubbing the heel of his hands over his eyes. He paused in the doorway, gaping as Adam assembled two plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

“Mornin’,” Adam grunted, as he took a knife and fork out of the drawer. He walked over to the table and sat down.

“You made breakfast? I should invite you over more, geez,” Kenny said. He sat down with his plate. “Did you sleep, okay?”

“Not too bad,” Adam said. He watched as Kenny took a bite of eggs and grinned as Kenny moaned almost obscenely. “Was pretty nice sleeping next to you.”

“Well, cowboy, you can do that anytime you want,” Kenny promised. He tapped his fingers against the table. “So, I guess you’re heading out then?”

“Yeah, I gotta,” Adam said. “I got a seven-hour drive, training and working-out to get on, and like, I’m bleeding money paying my neighbor’s daughter to watch my dogs. But uh, this, thing, last night, it was fun? We should do it again.”

“Including the cuddling?” Kenny asked, propping his chin against his hand. He picked-up a piece of bacon between his fingers and cheekily tore a piece off. “I couldn’t agree more. Especially, if you’re going to cook like this.”

“Definitely the cuddling, you’re a pretty good hand warmer,” Adam nodded. He scrapped the last of the eggs onto his fork and polished it off with some pancake. He stood-up and took his plate to the sink while Kenny finished eating.

Kenny followed Adam out as he returned to his car. They hugged and Adam settled into the driver seat. He recalled the inane story he spun last night, where they go back to the indies and pretended the past year didn’t happen. It wasn’t fleeting because it was impossible. It was simply too late. As Adam turned the ignition he wondered if he could convince Kenny to come back with him to North Carolina instead. Just hide there until the next Dynamite or something. Steal a little bit more time. He put the car in the reverse and let the thought die under the rear wheels.

#ofgrief #‘The Idiot Speaking’ || OOC #‘Beloved’ || Adam and Kenny #‘Deals with God’ || Adam: Verse #i bet there's at least a few typos in this but it's in god's hands now

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axther · 4 years

Text

🗨️ CountryOfWonderland said: Hello! My name is Karen. Yes I know it's ruined by Reddit. I am mindfully straight but also ace. I am known as the mom of the group by many. Supportive, wise in giving advice, yet I can't use those words to help myself. :'). I put others before me. Very empathetic, yet I'm not very easily angered. I am currently in college for the arts. I like correct anatomy, good concepts, ideas, and people in general. Mostly for what makes each person different, what makes them work. Even the simplistic things about them are what makes them best at what they are. Wordfully creative in poetry, compliments, and even pickup lines. Give me a word, and I'll be able to use it as a theme.

Yikes I took WAY too damn long w this one, BUT I gotta say the whole thing is long af and really kicked my ass lmao. also tw for suicide mention and uhhh death mention that isn’t suicide? And spoilers for the Overhaul Arc

#1 is…Bakugou!

AIGHT

So y'all met at a training camp

Let's put aside the fact that we don't even know if Bakugou would ever want to go to a training camp ever again

But this one is for elite kids.

The one's that could already be heroes, if given the traction and discipline

And it's orientation day!!

we all know that while Bakugou's all about physical prowess, he also recognises other people's talents

Well this time he had trouble with it

Namely, when he came across you, with a quirk he couldn't pin down.

He's kinda miffed, ngl

You keep to yourself, but you're not rude.

You talk to people that approach you, speaking softly and sometimes writing in a small notepad for a second before talking again.

Some of the younger kids are stuck to you like glue because you're just so soft.

And Bakugou can't figure out for the life of him what you can do, what you are.

So as the camp progresses, he keeps you in peripheral.

He's never pitted against you, and you guys don't have many interactions.

So all he really knows is that you've made yourself camp mom, and everyone likes you.

Except him

Everyone's confused as to how he's just...neutral about you.

So slowly, but inevitably, the rest of the camp decides to get you two to be in as many situations as possible

At first, they started out small!

No one wanted to share the canoe with Bakugou (though it was more for their safety than the Grand Plan™), so you agreed to

And it's peaceful until one of the more prankish campers decides to flip your canoe, and Bakugou loses his mind on the kid.

As more of these gentle nudges take place, you and Bakugou become little more than acquaintances.

It's not going fast enough.

For anyone.

So one of the younger campers takes authoritative measures

And locks y'all in a damn closet

Neither you nor Bakugou wants to be responsible for property damage

So you two decide to wait it out until someone comes to get something

(and hope it doesn't get mistaken for anything else)

There's a deafening silence

You and Bakugou are glued to the opposite walls, not really talking

But then he notices that you're flipping through your little notebook, almost...in way that comforting.

He tilts his head.

"What're you doing?"

You jump, and no, he doesn't think it's cute, not at all.

And you glance to the side.

"I'm using my quirk."

Bakugou's eyes just about burst out of his skull, because he's spent the whole camp trying to figure it out.

"What is it?"

"Fatewriter." You hesitate for a minute, before continuing. "I can see other people's fates."

Again, Bakugou is floored, but he just stares.

"If I get someone's name, their real name, I can see how they'll live, how they'll die. When. Where. I've gotten most people, here, but I never got the chance to go over them."

Bakugou watches as you go back to reading the pages, in awe, before realisation settles over him.

"But isn't it...scary?"

"No." You glance up. "Just sad."

There's silence again.

"Is there anything...different?" Bakugou didn't think 'special' would really apply in the situation, so he tiptoed around his words

Why, he wasn't sure

But for just a moment, it was so intimate.

There they were

Halfway across the room from each other.

Not even touching

Not even making eye contact.

And somehow, it was as though they were meant to meet their entire lives.

You nodded, and he realised he had been staring.

"One of the kids... he's gonna be a villain."

"What?!" Bakugou barked, rising up. "We need to stop him!"

"We can't."

"What the fuck? Why not?"

"We don't know what we'd lose." You murmur, and there's sorrow in your voice, and if it were any other person, he would've absolutely lost his mind

But you look up, and now your eyes are filled with something beyond sorrow-something so completely unfathomable that he's struck silent.

"I once tried to save my family. My father, namely. He was a hero, and I saw that he was going to die. The day he was going to die, I begged him not to go. I was, what? Four?"

You gave a humourless laugh.

"So when he saw his sobbing four-year-old daughter, he didn't go. That day, there was a villain attack. Thirty-eight people died. Everyone pinned the blame on my father, and he killed himself in shame." You looked back down.

Bakugou lost all sense of feeling in his body, and he fell to the floor.

He was closer to you than before, but he didn't even think about it.

It was like all of his gusto from before had leaked out of his body

And it was just him and you

Two people

Two kids

Defenceless against the wills of the universe

Locked in a closet.

With all the time in the world, and at the same time, none at all.

He noticed you stopped looking through the notepad

You were slumped over, and you just looked so defeated.

And slowly, quietly

He pulls you in for a hug

You're still

He's still

And suddenly, it's as though the universe wasn't so scary after all.

#2 is…Iida!

You and Tenya were peas in a pod, lemme tell you

Y'all grew up together

Your parents were heroes, life was nice, all that good stuff

(But as explained above happens, and…)

You family has a fall from grace

Your mother's in hysterics, mourning

Any other family is trying to keep it all together

And then there's you

And you're quiet.

There's no crying, not in public at least.

Tenya, who was just about as old as you, at the time, notices, but his parents told him not to interfere

He wants to be there for you, as much as a five-year-old can, but…

You just shut down completely

Your mother ends up breaking down and is taken to a mental institute

There's talk about you potentially being arrested for indirectly killing thirty-nine people

Everyone can't blame your father anymore, so they blame you

And there you are, virtually alone.

When the Iidas pull through

They know what happened

They see the family name's been sullied

But goddammit, you're a child.

So you're taken in by the Iidas.

It's not quite adoption, and you're not their sister

but you stay with them, and they take care of you.

They don't ask anything in exchange, and you become a permanent guest at their house

And so, you full-on grow up with the Iidas.

You're there when Tenya gets admitted into U.A.

(and notably, you don't, and the entire family knows why, but you don’t say anything)

You're there when he goes through USJ, talking it out with him

You're there when Tensei gets hurt

You're there when Bakugou gets taken

And then entire time, you've become a pillar for him

It's almost impossible, for him to imagine a world where you aren't there

And it's the summer after the first semester of school.

Tenya's parents decide to try and get people to...approve of you

So they send you to a summer camp

It's for kids with promising quirks, but maybe not the best handle on them or the best background

So you're gone

For two weeks

And Tenya is absolutely fine.

The first day, he writes you a letter, because he felt it would be more personal

By the second day, he's gotten all his summer homework done

By the third, he's written himself a brand new training regimen

By the fourth...yeah, you get the idea

He's bored and lonely

Sure Tensei and his parents are there

But, like…

His parents are busy, and Tensei can only do so much…

So while Tenya writes you a letter a day, he's slowly beginning to meditate on his friendship with you

He never considered you as a sister, but more as a really, really, really close friend.

But you're closer than most friends would be

Sure, his friend circle at U.A. was great, and he had fun

But he didn't really realise just how much he was missing until you left

So two days into the second week, he's laying on his bedroom floor

He's kinda blank, staring at the ceiling and watching the fan in his room spin

And he's thinking about you

You're beautiful, and you smile a lot, and you're matronly, which to anyone else, would've been an insult. Still, you're genuinely like a really young mother.

A regal, young mother.

You've helped him more times than he could count

And you do your best to not let people get to you

You're just about the only person that he's cried in front of, besides his family

And he has no idea just why you've become something so...present since you've been gone

And as he's thinking about you and why in a way he hopes isn't creepy, Tensei peeks through the door

"... What'cha doing?"

"Thinking about Kay."

Tensei nods, clearly amused and a bit concerned. "Is something...wrong?"

"No." Tenya shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. "Just thinking about her."

"Looks like someone has a crush," Tensei teases, beginning to roll away when Tenya sits up at a ninety-degree angle

And the look on his face could only be described as pure panic and realisation

Tensei stares back with wide eyes, blinking owlishly.

"Oh my god," Tenya mutters before they speak in unison.

"You have a crush."

"I have a crush."

There's silence, before Tenya skyrockets back up and begins going through his drawers furiously, pulling out paper and a pen.

Tensei pulls the door open a bit wider and wheels in, noting the picture of Tenya and you on the ground next to where Tenya was having his one-sixteenth life crisis.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm going to tell her in a letter! That's the responsible thing to do!" Tenya's got everything pulled out, but then freezes.

"I can't tell her."

Tensei pats Tenya's back, a small smirk on his face.

"Ahh, young love…"

(Tenya definitely did not spend the next several days lamenting how to tell you, or even if he should tell you.)

(And he also definitely didn't pop your back with a bear hug when he saw you, and effectively set off the human bomb named Bakugou)

#3 is...Mirio!

Humans are fickle, fickle creatures

Sometimes, they want you to do something

Other times, they want the complete opposite.

And in this case, humans were extremely fickle

Not that you could blame this human in particular

It was a several weeks after Sir Nighteye's death

Though most of society knew you as a killer, Sir Nighteye looked past that

Since your quirks were so similar

and he recognised that you were a child trying to save her father

So he did his best to help you, albeit discreetly.

You knew when he was going to die

And he knew when you were going to die

But you never told the other, as part of a pact to not change fixed points in the future.

It was a strange thing, in the end.

To some extent, you two considered each other distant siblings

So, when he died, you attended his funeral

Admittedly, you were the quietest of the lot.

There was no sobbing from you, just regretful sorrow.

A young, blonde man wasn't hiding his grief, choking his sobs with his hand

You glance at him, before looking away

After the service, you're the first to leave.

You knew Nighteye wouldn't want you to linger on him, but to be the best person you can in your grief.

But the young man catches you on the way out

"You... you're Kay, right?"

You hesitate. He continues.

"I’m...I’m Mirio Togata. I...Sir…he talked about you. A lot. And he said…"

"He mentioned that I knew when he was going to die?" You finished for him.

Mirio freezes, then nods.

"Why didn't you try to stop it?" He mutters, and you can feel worry bubble in your gut.

"You could have saved him. Why didn't you?"

You raise an eyebrow.

You can tell he’s trying not to get angry, but his fists are clenched and his breathing is beginning to get heavy

But you can’t even feel angry

He’s right

You could’ve

But you look down, your back to him

“Nighteye and I had a deal. We wouldn’t tell the other when we die, and deal with it when it happens. He always told me that the future shouldn’t be changed.” You look forward, eyeballing the sky.

“If I could’ve told him, without any worry of repercussions, I would. But time is not kind to us.”

And with that, you walked away.

Mirio can only watch, and the grief replaces his anger.

Midoriya and All Might come over to him a minute later, pulling his thoughts away from you.

But later that night, he looks you up.

He doesn’t mean to be creepy

But when he sees the face of a little girl who was on the cusp of shattering, plastered all over the internet, he can’t help but feel justified pity.

Of course, she wouldn’t interfere a second time.

The first was traumatising enough.

So, he become determined to befriend you

You were close to Nighteye, and while he never said much on his actual relationship with you, Mirio knew that he held you in dear regard.

There were often times where he would mention something about you, and then Mirio and Midoriya were stuck trying to figure out if ‘Kay’ was his daughter, or what.

So in the coming days, he found a new purpose.

Between taking care of Eri and visiting his friends, he began trying to visit you.

He popped by the Iida house, and knocked on the door.

He expected to be greeted with a maid or something, with how elaborate the mansion was

But to his surprise, you opened the door.

Tensei Iida (holy SHIT, goes Mirio’s mind) is behind you, but before Tensei can ask who’s at the door, or Mirio can ask why your eyes are red, you slam it shut with more force than you looked capable of.

This becomes a recurring thing

Until one day, Mirio manages to catch the Iidas while you’re out

They invite him in, and they exchange pleasantries, until you come in from the rain

And you make eye contact with him

And he makes eye contact with you

And you bolt up the stairs

He goes running after you as politely as he can, apologising to the Iidas

(and noting Tenya’s mildly disgruntled face)

And he catches you, just before you can shut the door to your room

And while he doesn’t try to burst in, he does manage to get a question out

“Why are you avoiding me?”

There’s a second, and two, and he knows the family’s listening from downstairs

And the door opens

And you look so hollow.

And for a moment, Mirio wonders just how well you’re taking Nighteye’s death, before you step aside so he can come in.

There’s silence as he takes in your room, and then turns to you.

You’re wrapping your arms around yourself

And you’re not looking at him

You both are stock still, but then Mirio speaks again.

“Did I do something?”

There’s a noise from you, something between a choking sob and a swallow, before you shake your head.

“No. It wasn’t...you.”

“Then what was it?” Then, he quickly adds, “I can leave, if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“You were right,” You’re whispering, so quietly that he could barely hear it.

“Huh?”

“I could’ve saved him. I should’ve saved him,” When you’re talking, it actually sounds like it pains you to speak.

It’s enough that he starts reaching out, but then you start again, and it completely unravels you.

“He was someone so dear to me...I could’ve told him, hinted it, something. I think about it so much. He could still be here today, and it’s all my fault. And you knew, you called me out on it. I couldn’t handle it. I feel…”

And you’re sobbing, genuinely sobbing, and it’s heartbreaking, as though the little girl from so long ago had come back to haunt the living.

“I feel like I can’t say anything. I’m drowning in something, and it’s red, and it’s angry, and it’s choking me, but I can’t say a word! I keep all my emotions bottled up, and the bottle is so, so full! What can I do, when it bursts and all the glass kills me from the inside?”

You’ve kneeled on the carpet

And Mirio’s kneeling, too, and he’s crying

You two have barely had any conversation besides at the funeral and here

And yet he’s knows that you two are on a different frequency

Maybe it’s the shared grief of losing someone so dear

Maybe it’s how you held yourself, like you were scared of finally letting go of your restraint

Or maybe it was just how you cried together, arms on each other’s shoulders, free to just let go

Mirio isn’t sure

But when he looks up and sees the tears hanging off your eyelashes, he makes a promise to himself

And in a way, Sir Nighteye, too

I’ll be there for you. Always.

#matchup #matchups from the other side #bnha x reader #matchups

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ughseoks-main · 6 years

Text

you’re your father’s daughter

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

summary: where peter, your boyfriend of many months, finds out that you’re tony stark’s daughter

requested by anonymous: Can you do a peter parker x reader imagine where they're dating and her dad is tony stark but nobody knows because she uses her mom's last name and lives with her mom and basically doesn't like her dad and then could you make it be like how peter would react to finding out about that

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst, swearing, daddy issues

a/n: wow this is a lot longer than pretty much all of my oneshots whaaat?? it’s like,, halfway edited kinda?? so like dont judge it too hard lmao. but anyways i hope y’all enjoy & let me know what you think!

You didn’t like Tony Stark.

Sure, he was your dad, but after what he’d done to you and your mom, your dislike for him had grown immensely. You could barely remember living with him; you were so young that only bits and pieces of your life then stuck with you. Most of your memories with him seemed to be happy, yet you couldn’t stand to even hear his name.

Although it was so long ago, you could still remember the day you and your mother left. She was crying, but being so young, you had no idea why. You were too young to understand why you’d moved, but a few years later your mom explained to you that she and Tony both decided it was best for both you and your mom to move away. She never went into detail why, saying it wasn’t her place to tell you, which led you to assume that Tony wanted to live out his playboy lifestyle with nothing holding him back, even if that meant abandoning his daughter in the process. The last time you spoke to your father was the day you moved out all those years ago.

Even after all of that, you still had Tony’s number saved in your phone. It was silly, but you couldn’t make yourself delete it. Somehow, having his number saved kept you connected to that little bit of happiness he gave you in your younger years. The only time he called was on your birthday each year, and you always let it go to voicemail. He’d leave roughly the same message each time, usually saying ‘happy birthday’ and that he loved you.

He never said he missed you.

You’d listen to those voicemails over and over again, each and every replay digging into your soul. Deep, deep down, you knew you missed him, but you’d built up so many walls that the sadness manifested as resentment in your heart. Even hearing his name could make your blood boil; a defense against the cold, prying fingers of loneliness and longing.

Shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality, you realize that you’re sitting in the lunchroom next to your boyfriend, Peter Parker.

“He just treats me like… like his own kid, you know?” he says adoringly, taking another bite of his sandwich, “He always listens to my ideas and encourages creativity and thinking outside the box. Whenever I suggest something, he takes it into consideration instead of waving me off for being just a kid.”

If it were anybody else, you’d try to change the subject or politely leave to do something else. However, neither of those options worked with Peter. Even if you changed the subject, he’d somehow find his way back to Tony; plus, he knew you way too well to tell if you were trying to leave because you were upset. So, you just sucked it up and tried your best to filter out all of the Tony Stark talk. Now, you were sure that if you ever told him about your situation, he’d immediately stop. After all, he would never do anything to hurt you.

However, telling Peter wasn’t a risk you could take.

If anybody ever found out that you were Tony Stark’s daughter, your life would never be the same. People would only befriend you so they could use you, and you would always be compared to him. You wanted to be your own person and make a name for yourself without the help of your famous dad. Critics would most definitely blame your success on your bloodline rather than your brilliant, science-oriented mind, which wasn’t something you wanted to deal with.

“So, I was talking to Mr. Stark,” Peter’s eyes grow wide with excitement, “and he said I could invite my friend to come to the lab with me sometime! I figured with how much you love science and how brilliant you are, you’d have a blast with us. It’s like a scientific playground up there!”

“Uh,” you rub the back of your neck awkwardly, “As much fun as that sounds, I think I’m busy. Maybe another time?”

“But I didn’t even give you a date-”

“It’s just… not a good time right now, Peter,” you emphasize, giving him a look that told him you weren’t budging.

“Oh, that’s okay..” he looked disappointed, which crushed your heart, “It’s too bad. I mean, I honestly think you guys would get along great. You’re actually super similar! Sometimes I think you’re, like, his long lost daughter or something. You know, just the other day he-”

“Peter, can you just- can you just stop?” you snap, unable to listen to any more. Peter didn’t know any better, but you just couldn’t listen to him talk about Tony for a second longer.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” he asked, concern evident in his voice, “You know, you can tell me anything.”

“Just- just forget it, okay? I’m fine, I promise,” you lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek before standing up to go to class, leaving him sitting confused and alone at the lunch table.

Later that afternoon during your free period, you were sketching plans for a new invention when your phone began to buzz on your desk. After throwing an apologetic look the teacher’s way, you slipped out of the classroom before holding the phone up to your ear.

“Peter, I was in class, you know,” you say only half-seriously, smiling a bit.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, “Um, I was just calling to make sure you’re, uh, okay.”

Your smile falls, the events from earlier that day flashing across your mind. In all honesty, you had been preparing for this phone call, so you knew pretty much exactly what you were going to say. It was simple: you weren’t feeling well and you just needed some sleep, that’s all. Before you could speak, however, a familiar voice speaks in the background of the call.

“Who ya talkin’ to, kid?” the muffled voice of Tony Stark poured into your ear, causing you to freeze in place and blurt a quick ‘i’m fine’ to Peter before hitting the end call button as quickly as possible. You take a moment to control your breathing, your heart beating a million times a minute.

________

Frowning at his phone, Peter pulls it away from his ear and turns to Tony.

“What, girl problems?” he smirks at Peter, giving him a soft punch to the shoulder.

“Yeah, uh,” Peter stutters, “It’s- it’s nothing, let’s keep working.”

Peter doesn’t see Tony’s eyes widen when he sees your name glowing on the top of the screen as he sends you a text telling you to meet him at the coffee shop later. A small picture of you making a kissy face accompanies a million yellow hearts and heart eyes decorating your contact name.

Tony clears his throat as Peter turns off his phone, shifting his focus back to the task at hand.

________

The door to the coffee shop makes a light ding as you open it, the fairy lights strung along the windows illuminating your face in the darkness of the night. You scan the room to see Peter sitting nervously at the table in the corner by the window, the table you two always sit at.

“What’s up Pete?” you say nonchalantly as you take a seat, even though you already know what he’s about to ask.

“Is- is there something you’re not telling me?” he asks, cutting straight to the chase as he looks up at you with his wide, brown puppy eyes.

“I wish I could tell you that everything is fine, Peter,” you sigh, “But I just can’t. And as much as I want to tell you why, I can’t.”

“Why?” his voice breaks, your heart breaking along with it, “Why can’t you tell me?”

“I just can’t,” you whisper, voice raw with emotion.

“If we’re in this together, we have to-” he paused and took a deep breath, lowering his voice a bit since people were beginning to stare, “We have to trust each other, Y/N.”

You remain quiet and fiddle with your hands, unable to force the words out of your mouth. After holding them inside for so long, you didn’t know how to let them out. A squeak from Peter’s chair causes you to look up at him, taking in his cold face as he stands up and looks down at you with disappointment.

“Peter, wait-”

“Talk to me when you’re willing to tell me the truth,” he states before walking out the door, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

________

You didn’t know how long you sat at that table before you went home, tears streaming down your face. When you walked into the house, your mom was already in bed, so you quietly snuck into your room and clambered underneath the covers. You didn’t care if you were still fully dressed; you needed to sleep and forget about the events of today for just a little while.

No matter how long you sat there with your eyes closed, sleep never took you away. You were stuck in bed, replaying your conversation with Peter over and over again in your head until you were sick of thinking about it.

“Ughhh,” you groan, sitting up and rubbing your face before murmuring to yourself, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Sliding out of bed and into your vans, you tiptoe through your house and close the door gently behind you, not wanting your mom to know you left the house so late. With a quick glance at your phone, you note that it’s nearing 1 am, so Peter would most likely be asleep. Whatever, you think to yourself, pulling your hoodie sleeves down over your hands to protect against the cold as you make your way towards his apartment.

When Peter open the door, it’s clear that he’s been crying, which shatters your heart.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” you try joking, but he doesn’t seem to return the sentiment.

Cracking jokes at a tense time? The Stark in you was really starting to shine through.

“Why are you here?” he replies, his nose and cheeks tinted pink from the amount of tears he had shed, while yours were tinted from the cold.

“Peter, you have to understand that I- I want to tell you everything, but i just can’t,” you try to explain, the desperation clear in your voice.

“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N,” he exasperates, opening and closing his mouth a few times before letting out all the words he’d been trying to find, “I don’t know what’s up with you, but you’ve been so different lately. You’ve pulled away from me ever since I told you about Spiderman and the Stark Internship. I invite you to things, really cool things like working in a lab with Tony Stark, because I care about you and I want to share these experiences with you and you just- just blow me off like it’s nothing to you! I don’t know why you never want to talk about the internship with me or go on visits-”

“BECAUSE HE’S MY DAD, PETER!” you finally yell, not caring if you wake up the neighbors.

“W-what?” he stutters, eyes going wide.

“Because he’s my dad and he left me and I cannot stand to think about him, let alone talk about him, okay? There. That’s the big secret, and now you know it. Are you happy now?” you snap, finally putting your truth out into the open.

Instead of answering, Peter stands there shocked, hurt filling his gaze.

“Pete?” your voice is quiet now, worried you’ll scare him off because of the look in his eyes.

“I think you should go,” his voice is soft, cracking with emotion at the end of his sentence.

“Wait-”

“Go.” his gaze hardens before he shuts the door in your face, sliding down the other side of it as another round of tears spill down his cheeks. He felt so betrayed; how could you ever keep a secret like that from him?

You stand there for a moment, numbness spreading across your whole body. That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, but it was definitely the one you feared the most. You didn’t even register that you were walking down the hallway, lost in thought about how Peter would most likely break up with you.

You’re going to lose the person you loved the most.

And you can’t let that happen.

Suddenly, it was like everything was clear again. Before you can take another step down the stairs, you spin on your heel and run back up to Peter’s door, knocking.

And knocking.

“Peter, please let me in,” you plead, leaning your forehead against the door as you continue to knock, wishing that he would just open the door.

With a sigh, you lean back and slide your phone open, going to his contact in your messages. One tap later, you take note of the small dot that reperesents Peter moving quickly across the map.

“Fuck,” you breathe, sliding your phone into your back pocket and running back down the hallway. There was only one place he could be going; the place you never thought you’d return to.

Much to your surprise, you only hesitate for a moment once you’re outside of the tower before running inside and demanding to be let up.

“I need to get upstairs!” you urge, giving the very tired receptionist an exasperated look.

“The tower is closed, Ma’am,” she repeats, annoyance clear in her voice, “You can come back tomorrow during our work hours.”

“Please…” you take a glance at her name tag, “Katy. Please, I need to get up there and talk to Tony.” “If you don’t leave the premises, I’ll have to call security,” she warns, reaching for her phone.

“No!” you reach out towards her and she raises an eyebrow at you, “I mean, please, I’m begging you. Just call Tony and tell him that Y/N Y/L/N is here to see him and he’ll let me up.”

“I’m sure that he’s asleep-”

“I can guarantee that he isn’t,” you pressure, leaning over the counter and giving her the biggest puppy eyes you could muster.

After a few more moments of consideration, she caves, sighing a quick “Alright” before lifting up the phone and speaking quietly into it for a few minutes.

“You’re clear to go,” she gestures to the door, and you catch a small bit of surprise in her voice as she did so. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting Tony to let the random teenage girl from the lobby upstairs.

You walk towards the elevator, heart in your throat as you press the button for the floor that the receptionist told you Tony was on. Each floor you pass makes a small beep, each one elevating your heart rate slightly until the final ding of the elevator rings out.

When the doors open, he’s there.

Tony Stark, the man you hadn’t seen in years.

You stand awkwardly for a moment, frozen in place until finally he coughs and gestures toward the living room, blurting out a quick “Pete’s in there.” Giving him a simple nod, you walk past him and began walking down the hallway, nervous to see Peter because of what he might say to you.

As your nerves begin to build, your pace begins to quicken as well, growing from a casual walk into a full on sprint. After what seems like an eternity of running, you finally slide to a stop in the doorway, trying to catch your breath as Peter’s head jerks up to look at you with red, puffy eyes.

“Peter, I-”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he falters, looking you straight in the eyes. You can’t hold eye contact with him, so you stare at the ground as he continues, “It was so, so hard to tell you about Spiderman. Did you know that? Did you know how hard that was for me? I trusted you with that huge secret, Y/N, yet you couldn’t tell me something as- as little as this.”

At those words, you jerk your head back up, raising your eyebrows at him. You can tell that he regrets the words as soon as they come out, but you can’t just let it go.

“Woah, woah, woah, Peter,” you feel the anger begin to rise within you, “this is not ‘little.’ Just because it isn’t some sort of secret identity superhero reveal doesn’t mean it isn’t a huge part of me. It’s almost impossible for me to talk about, so for you to say that it’s ‘little’ really fucking hurts.”

“That’s not-” he takes a deep breath, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Peter?” you cross your arms, waiting for an explanation.

“Mr. Stark is one of the most important people in my life. He’s helped me with so much and I don’t know where I would be right now without him. Probably dead, to be honest. At this point, he’s my father figure, you know? And I just can’t believe you kept something like this from me for so long. It hurts that you didn’t trust me with it, especially when I’ve trusted you with so much in my life.”

“You think that this didn’t hurt me too, Peter?” you retort, “You think that keeping this secret from not just everybody, but you, the person I love most, was easy? It was so so fucking hard to hear you talk about him every day, Peter. It was so hard to pretend like I was busy every time you invited me to things or like every time you spoke his name it wasn’t like a knife was being shoved into my chest, because he’s giving you the love he could never find in himself to give me. I understand that he’s your father figure, Peter, but he isn’t mine. I’m so happy that he loves you, but it’s really hard to hear about that when I know that he never loved me.”

You wipe away tears that you didn’t know you’d been shedding until that moment before whispering, “I never meant to hurt you, Peter.”

He was looking down at his shoes, so you had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. All you wanted was for him to say something, anything, in reply. At this point, you were ready for anything he threw at you.

“He talks about you, you know.”

Okay, maybe you weren’t ready for that.

“W-what? I don’t- How do you know that?”

“I-I never knew it was you until now. I always assumed that he just kept his kid a secret from the world for their own sake, which I guess is actually somewhat true,” he swallowed harshly, “I guess your mom keeps him updated on your life because he always talks about how smart and accomplished his kid is. He’d tell me about how they won the science fair when they were only in third grade and were competing against middle schoolers, or how they’d scored a major internship that only five kids were awarded nationwide. I must be pretty thick since I never put the pieces together until now, but Y/N, he does love you. He loves you and he’s so, so proud of you, even if you don’t know it.”

“Then why- why didn’t he ever tell me?” you ask, unable to comprehend everything Peter just told you.

“Because-” he pauses for a moment, thinking, “Because, if you didn’t want anything to do with him, he probably knew that and stayed away because he didn’t want to upset you. At least, I’m assuming that’s why.”

You take a minute to take everything in, reconsidering everything you’ve ever thought about your father. All this time, you might’ve been wrong about him. Looking back on it, you can remember times when your mom would attempt to talk to you about the situation, but you’d always refused, not wanting to even think about him after what he’d done.

But now? Now, you were willing to listen.

“I’ll be back,” you blurt out before running out of the room, pushing all thoughts about Peter to the back of your mind as you search for the person you need to talk to the most.

When you find him, he’s sitting on the steps of a staircase with his head in his hands, looking rather gloomy.

“Uh, Tony?” you clear your throat awkwardly and Tony looks up at you slowly, not believing his own ears when he hears your soft voice addressing him.

“Oh, hey kid,” he says calmly, attempting to brush off any nervousness, “So, you and Spiderling, huh? I gotta admit, I didn’t see that coming. Didn’t think that kid could love anything more than he loves his homework-”

“Tony,” you tentatively place a hand on his arm for a moment before pulling away, effectively stopping his rambling. While he was talking, you’d managed to make your way up to sit next to him on the stairs. “I-I want you tell me what happened.”

“Well, it all started when I met your mom at a bar-”

You give him a look and he closes his mouth, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You know what I mean.”

“Why do you want to know?” he asks, genuinely confused as to why you were suddenly open to discussion after so long, “After all these years, why now?”

“Because,” you pause, trying to find the right words, “I think I’ve had the wrong picture in my head my whole life. Why we left, why you never called. All of my assumptions have caused a lot of hurt for so many people in my life, and I just want to know the truth now.”

He nods, taking a deep breath before explaining everything to you. When you were born they kept everything a secret from the press, wanting to give you as normal of a life as possible before you were inevitably discovered. However, the older you got, the harder it was for them to keep you a secret. They could continue to keep you hidden for your entire life, but what kind of life would that be? Limited to the confines of the tower, never allowed to see anyone outside of immediate family. After plenty of long, solemn discussions, your parents decided that it was best for you to move away with your mom. Tony would rather see you grow to your full potential from afar than near him and weighed down by the burden of fame.

And just like that, everything suddenly makes sense to you. While you knew it would take time to grow back into a father-daughter relationship again, you also knew it was something that you were determined to accomplish someday.

After the conversation dies, you sit quietly with him for a few minutes. As you sink into the comfortable silence, a sudden thought crosses your mind, it’s urgency causing you to jump to your feet.

“Wait- how did you knew Peter and I were dating?” you blurt out, turning to look at the amusement in Tony’s eyes.

“Saw your name on the kid’s phone. It had lots of little heart emojis by it, so I assumed,” he shrugs, smirking slightly.

“Speaking of Peter, I should, uh, probably go back and talk to him,” you begin to walk down the steps, nearly making it to the doorway before Tony yells after you.

“Hey, keep it PG!” he shouts, shooting you a wink when you turn over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you try to wipe away the smile creeping up on your face as you turn back around and make your way back to the boy you love.

Once back in the living room, you’re surprised to find that Peter is nowhere to be seen. You’re about to pull out your phone and give him a call when suddenly, you’re attacked with a hug from behind, a yelp falling from your mouth.

“Peter!” you laugh, melting into his arms, “You scared me!”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, giving you a tight squeeze before letting go and spinning you around to look you in the eyes, “Where’d you run off to?”

“I, uh, talked to my dad,” you explain, finding it a bit odd to call him Dad after so long.

His gaze softens as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “And how’d it go?”

“Pretty good, actually,” you admit, a bit surprised yourself by how smoothly it went.

“Listen, I never apologized for earlier,” he says quietly, guilt shining in his eyes, “It was wrong of me to ever say those things-”

“Shh,” you put a finger to his lips, “Yes, you may have said some things you shouldn’t have, but you were rightfully upset and I know you didn’t mean them. I’m sorry for hiding this from you for so long. Even if Tony and I weren’t talking, you still had a right to know about my past, because it’s what makes me who I am today.”

“But-”

“No buts, Peter. We’re both at fault here. Communication is key, and we both kinda failed in that area. We can talk more about this tomorrow if you want, but I’m exhausted and in need of some ice cream. Care to join me?”

Smiling, you grab his hand and try to pull him in the direction of the elevator. Instead, you were jerked backwards, shooting him a glare when you realize that he has planted his feet into the ground to prevent you from going any further.

“Actually, I have a much more efficient way of getting there….” he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you over to the balcony outside.

“Peter, oh my god, I am NOT going to do this- AAAAA!” you scream and close your eyes as he jumps over the edge, letting your bodies fall. Your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders as he holds you close, swinging from building to building with ease. (You could’ve sworn you felt him laugh at you.)

Before you knew it, your shrieks of terror turn into shouts of glee as the wind rushes by your face. Peter assumes that you’ve gotten used to the sensation of flying through the air as he takes a quick glance at your now open eyes and wide smile. However, the real reason you’re no longer afraid was because of a single thought that crosses your mind as your hair whips around your face.

Nothing, not even swinging high above the city in the dead of night, was as scary as losing the people you loved most.

taglist (+ a few people i think might enjoy this, feel free to ignore!);

@minnie-marvel @quxntumvandyne @lokis-sunflower-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @peter-prkers @sighspidey @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @0captain-marvel0 @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @tohollandback @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @moonkissedtom @yoinksholland @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @peter-parker-fyeah @screechingtacoglitter @candycornparker @smexylemony @sleepybesson @hollandroos @spiderboytotherescue @starsholland @pumpkinsandparker

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numeronubisexualhawkeye · 5 years

Text

Be Kind, Rewind

2278 words

@thatahjuma

(ngl cheif, almost didn’t do this one cause it was kinda hard for me lmao)

It was Quill's idea. All of the guardians and Thor had been onboard in an instant, but Clint was hesitant when Nebula had come forward to tell him the plan. He missed Natasha more than words could describe, but Clint wasn’t one to try to fuck with the dead.

He had already time travelled twice in one week, fought an alien army for the second time in his life, and ran around with a glove with stones powerful enough to wipe out a planet, all in the course of 72 hours. Necromancy was something he probably should have expected to be next on his involuntary to-do list, but not like this. Not with Natasha.

She had quite literally given her life for the fate of the universe, so that he could live to see victory. Undoing her sacrifice felt selfish, and a part of him feared that undoing her death would somehow undo the battle against Thanos. It also felt incredibly unfair. Who was he, or any of the guardians, to play G-d? Clint could understand Quill’s need to do this, Gamora had had no choice in Thanos being her father and being killed for the soul stone. But Natasha, she was different. It felt disrespectful to go for such a long shot to bring her back. She had wanted to jump, had bet her life that it would work, and it did. They won. Hurt like a bitch, but Clint was ready to accept that she had died as she had lived; working to save the world. He wasn’t sure if he was willing to undo what she’d done all because he missed her.

But Bruce confirmed the math (even if almost all of it was completely theoretical), and everyone onboard was willing to give it a shot. Worst case scenario, everyone hangs it up, and tries to move on with life, try to carve out something new among the old ashes of a missing loved one. Best case scenario, well Clint knew what that was, but he was still too afraid to think on it. What if she came back angry? Would she even come back the same? Would the Red Skull even let her come back at all? There was only one way to find out. He packed his bags, boarded the ship, and held on as Rocket piloted them to lightspeed back to Vormir.

Clint was almost mesmerized when he saw Vormir appear out of the vast blackness of space when Rocket pulled them out of lightspeed. But when the realization of what they were here to attempt to do flooded his mind again, he felt uneasy. This felt like a mistake waiting to happen. It wasn’t going to work, there was too much working against them for this to work. They were about to mess with a magic Clint had never seen before. Even after being around aliens for the last 24 hours and seeing the Infinity Stones’ power for himself, he still felt like they were meddling with something completely out of their realm of comprehension.

They exited the ship, Quill leading them at first, but Nebula stopped them halfway up the mountain and turned to Clint. “You should address the guardian.” she said.

He had been nervous before, but hearing her suggestion, it made him want to turn around and wait on the ship. The plan had originally been for Quill to go first, seeing as Gamora had died more recently than Natasha had. If everything went smoothly and she came back, then that would mean that the chance of bringing Natasha back were better than the some odd million to one chances that Bruce had offered when he hypothesized their plan back at on Earth. If he went forward first and this didn’t work, he didn’t know what he would do. He had failed to turn up to fight Thanos, wasted five years brooding and killing, left Natasha alone to deal with trying to run the Avengers and save the world by herself, and when he finally came back, he barely had any time to appreciate those last few hours they had had together. He had always envisioned the both of them making it out together. That they would be together right now, leaving the guardians to fight their own battle alone and finally leave the world in the hands of some of the fresher Avengers. But all of that had dropped into oblivion when Natasha let go of his hand. But now, well now he had a chance to get it all back. A very fragile and slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. Their plan wasn’t foolproof, but he would much rather stick to it than wing it and hope for the best.

“Nebula, seriously?” Quill said stepping towards Clint. “I really doubt some guy is gonna be able to handle whatever Hellraiser here is gonna throw at him.”

Nebula’s expression didn’t change. She simply shot a glance between Quill and Clint. “You’re wrong. He’s been here before. Tried to give his life to save Natasha so she could bring the stone back. He can do it.”

“I’m flattered,” Clint started, “but,” he didn’t have time to formulate a full answer.

“Clint, son of Edith.” the Red Skull said. He floated down from the cliffs above. Had he been able to hear them this entire time? “Nebula, daughter of Thanos. Peter, son of,”

“Okay, enough with the role call,” Quill cut in. “We’re here to bargain.” Quill reached inside his pocket and held out the soul stone. It had been agreed upon that he would be the one to carry it, seeing as he had held the power stone years before without dying.

The Red Skull didn’t say anything. As a matter of fact, he looked, confused. His eyes squinted and he reached out his hand for the stone when Quill held it out. “No one has ever brought it back.” he explained. He paused again, and looked at Clint. “You have come for an exchange?”

Nebula’s plan to have Clint speak instead seemed to be set in motion even though no one had agreed on it. “Yes. You remember me?” Clint asked.

The guardian nodded. “Of course. Few ever follow through with the exchange for the stone. But even fewer willingly give themselves for it.”

Clint fought against the lump in his throat as he remembered he and Natasha fighting each other as they raced to the cliff’s edge. “It should have been me. If I switch places, and you bring Natasha back,”

“Barton what are you doing?” Quill hissed beside him. “This wasn’t the plan.”

“We’re fucking with death Quill, you really think any kind of plan was going to hold water here?” Clint whispered harshly. “We have to play by his rules, or turn around with our tails between our legs. If this doesn’t work, then nothing else will.”

Clint was willing to give his life for Natasha. He had done it so many times before back when Shield was still around, G-d all those missions seemed so trivial compared to what he was trying to do now. Jumping in front of a fire fight to pull Natasha to cover felt like a walk in a park to this. But he was willing to do it. He was already willing to give his life for the soul stone before, and not just for Natasha, but for the fate of the universe. Now that the dust had settled and he had a second chance, a chance to do things right in his eyes, he wasn’t too eager to screw that up because Quill suddenly had a penchant for doing things according to plan.

He held his hand out to Quill. “Give me the stone.” he instructed. “I can’t make any promises, but I will try my hardest to bring Gamora back.”

Quill looked away for a moment, his face twisted as he weighed the very limited options. It was either this, or they both jump and hope the Red Skull accepted 50/50 deals. “Fine.” Quill said at last. “But if this doesn’t work, I swear to G-d, I will dig you up and kick your corpse’s ass.”

He hadn’t said it to be funny, but Clint smirked anyway. “It’s going to work. He took the stone from Quill and walked to the Red Skull. “A soul for a soul, that’s what you said right?”

The Skull’s expression was unchanged. “Follow me.”

Clint gave one last glance over his shoulder to the guardians as he walked to the mountaintop. This is the only way. He thought. It’s better this way. Natasha was going to come back, the scales would be tipped to order. Clint just prayed that his promise to Quill would hold up, he couldn’t stand to think if he had wasted another life and kept another couple apart because of his selfishness.

At the mountaintop, Clint swore he could hear the ghost of he and Natasha’s conversation in his ears. To the Red Skull, that had been almost a decade ago, but to Clint, it had barely been two days. He walked to the edge, the Red Skull following closely behind him.

“A soul for a soul.” he repeated. He looked back to the guardian, “Will this even work?”

The Skull didn’t answer. He just held out his hand. Clint looked at the stone in his hand one last time. For a moment, he wondered if he could bring the Red Skull down with him. When he and Natasha had first come to Vormir, he had said that he knew all there was about the stone. He had seen G-d knows how many people come to try and get the stone, the few that did leaving half the person that they had been before. Those souls and bodies didn’t just disappear. They had to go somewhere. The stone was the only logical answer, but if that were true, then they would have been released when Bruce snapped his fingers.

A soul for a soul.

Clint held his hand out toward the Red Skull, and when he brushed his hand with his to take it, Clint lunged forward off the cliff. He tried to be quick with his grappling hook to catch himself, but the added weight of the Red Skull pulled him down too fast. Falling through the air, he felt impossibly slow, but he still reached out for the cliff wall, praying to find any ledge to take hold of. But there was none, and he finished the fall with the Red Skull, the soul stone forgotten in the air around them as he met the stone floor of the ground below.

There was a rush of sound around him. Wind? An explosion? No, no it was quieter than that. It was voices. Only a few of them, but he was sure that’s what he was hearing. But as quickly as they came, they were gone, the air in his ears popping as if the air was rushing to fill in the void that the voices had left when they vanished.

Clint’s eyes snapped open, he was staring up at the same purple-black sky that he had seen when he awoke with the soul stone. He bolted upward, his back soaked, he was in the same pool of water as last time.

“No.” Clint whispered to himself. He looked down at his hand, and there was the soul stone, the soft glow a beacon in his hand, telling him that he had failed twice now. “No. No, no, no, no.” he cried.

It didn’t work. Of course it didn’t work. Just like he had suspected, they had tried to play G-d, and G-d played back.

He put his face in his hands and heaved out a sob. He didn’t care if the guardians heard him. He had failed again. Now, not only had he gone against Natasha’s dying wish and every conceivable law of nature, but himself as well.

“Who the hell are you?” a voice nearby said.

Clint looked up and saw a woman, no, an alien, green skin and all, standing a few feet away from him. “Gamora?” he whispered. She backed away slowly when she looked down and saw the stone in Clint’s hand.

“Hey, hey, no. I, I wasn’t supposed to get this. It was supposed to be a tra-”

“Clint.”

This time the voice came from behind him, but he didn’t need to turn around to see who it belonged to. He would know her voice long after he had passed on. Natasha.

Slowly, he allowed himself to turn around. When he saw her, he broke. They walked toward each other, his arms stretched wide, ready to pull him into his embrace. When they met in the middle, she pushed him away with tears in her eyes.

“I told you to go. You weren’t supposed to come back. I told you it was okay!” Despite the anger in her voice, she cried. But he wasn’t listening. He pulled her to him and kissed her, letting the stone drop to the water as he pressed his hands against her back. She was there, she was alive, she was real.

“You know I’m a jackass.” he said when he finally paused for air.

Natasha let out a short laugh. “Fuck. Me dying to save the literal universe just wasn’t good enough, huh?”

Clint didn’t even know what to say. He just kissed her again and took her hand, as he lead them and Gamora back to the guardians and the ship, so they could finally live in the victory they deserved.

#k.txt #fic tag #clintasha #endgame spoilers #fix it fic

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werewolfdays · 5 years

Text

snippet- Hunter Encounter

so this snippet is kinda long lmao. Jayde deals with a unique problem-

“So, Jay,” Nadya started with a coy smile, lifting her mug up to her lips for a quick sip of coffee, “Is this a date?”

I exhaled an amused breath, letting my gaze wander around the coffee shop before settling back on her with a crooked grin, “What else would it be?”

Her irresistible brown eyes reflected the string of lights hanging from the window we were seated by. “Well, you did try to pass it off as a stakeout, but now I’m not so sure.”

Nadya was only teasing to relieve the tension. It was a stakeout. I had gotten word that there was hunter activity a couple towns away from the Lodge. If that was true, then they were far too close to my home and my pack for me to be comfortable. This was a situation I needed to jump on before it got out of hand. Which was why Nadya and I had been here all morning, seated by the window with the best view of the main street of this town. I also kept an extremely close eye on the customers coming and going. Anyone here could be an enemy.

I had planned to go and check it out on my own, that would be safer, but I realized that this would be less conspicuous. Me stalking a town by myself will definitely raise red flags if there really were hunters around. But two young women enjoying coffee together? Way easier to blend in that way. It wasn’t like I was only using Nadya for cover, though. Stakeouts could take hours or even days. Why not use some of that time to enjoy being with her?

“You caught me.” I joked, crossing my arms on the table and leaning in, “I made up the hunters so I could drive you an hour and a half away for a date at a coffee shop that we definitely couldn’t have gone to in the town by the Lodge.”

Nadya leaned in too to give me a sarcastic smirk, “You’re so romantic.”

“How about I buy you a piece of pie to make up for it?” My eyes drifted over to the display cases by the counter that were filled with all types of enticing baked goods.

She raised an eyebrow in intrigue, “You really know your way to a woman’s heart.”

“I’m proud to say that I know yours very well.” I winked and got up.

Once I got to the counter, the barista smiled warmly at me. It was usually easy for me to tell if someone had a genuine or fake smile, but people in customer service were always harder to read. I was pretty impressed by that. If I had to serve idiots all damn day, I wouldn’t have the patience to keep up the happy-go-lucky act. The boy struggling with the espresso machine behind the girl taking my order didn’t seem to have that particular talent either. He grumbled profanities under his breath as he hit every visible button, but the machine only stuttered and grumbled in response.

“I’ll take a slice of the pecan pie.” My hand motioned at it through the display case while I fished out a five dollar bill from my pocket.

The girl accepted the money, that pleasant grin ever present, even when one of her other coworkers groaned loudly at the boy struggling with the espresso machine. “We could warm it up for you if you want?”

“Sure, that’d be great.” I nodded and returned back to our table.

“What’s the plan if we find hunters?” Nadya asked when I sat back down.

“Depends on how many there are.” I replied with a shrug, taking a quick swig from my mug. “If there’s only a few, then I can take care of it. If it’s a big group, then we’ll go back to the Lodge and form a plan to lead them away.”

Her expression suddenly became dark, “By ‘take care of it’, you mean…”

I took a deep breath, “Nadya, you know I can’t let hunters be this close to us.”

“I know, Jay.” Nadya gripped her cup of coffee in both hands, “And I know what these people do. I’m not arguing against it, but…”

“You don’t have to be involved.” I assured her.

She struggled to make eye contact with me, “I already am.”

I didn’t realize until then that Nadya was right. It hadn’t even crossed my mind because killing hunters was hardly anything to me other than a necessity. Every hunter life I ended was making life safer for the people I love. It was purging the world of the actual monsters. But regardless of how I felt about it, it was still taking a life. That was something that Nadya was deeply uncomfortable with. And I was making her complicit.

I shook my head at myself, looking down at the contents of my mug in guilt, “Fuck, I wasn’t thinking.” How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I bring Skye or Toby instead? They would make more sense, but no, I had to bring my human girlfriend along because I couldn’t stand being away from her for a day or two. Christ, how selfish could I be? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you with me.”

“No, no,” Nadya shook her head at me, “I chose to come. I want to help keep the Lodge safe-- keep you safe. It’s just… I’m still trying to accept the other part of it.”

A very brief smile tugged at the corners of my mouth in response to her bravery and determination to protect our home, but also understood the grim reality that Nadya was coming to terms with about living this life. Half of me was shocked that it hadn’t scared her away from me yet.

“I know.” I replied softly.

“Here’s your pie.” A voice said, and I looked up to see the boy that was having issues with the espresso machine place a plate down between us, along with a couple of forks and napkins.

“Thank you.” Nadya replied, giving him a grateful smile as he nodded and walked away. Then, she looked to me, “Let’s take a break from the morality talk for some pie.” Her joke was lighthearted, and she flashed a playful look while picking up a fork to take a bite.

I laughed at her when she smiled in satisfaction. The thick, sweet scent filled my lungs, making my mouth water. “Pie beats morality every time.”

Nadya chuckled, shaking her head, but shrugged in agreement. She went for another forkful and motioned at her plate, “You want some? It’s pretty good.”

“Sure,” I went to pick up the other fork.

As soon as my fingers made contact, there was a violent burning sensation to my hand. I had already halfway picked it up, but the painful shock caused me to involuntarily drop the fork. A loud clang sounded through the small coffee shop when the metal collided with the ceramic plate and then came to rest on the surface of the wooden table. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw startled heads snap in our direction. Nadya jumped in surprise too, looking at me in confusion.

I only had a moment to understand and react. The fork was silver. It was a trap to expose me. Without a doubt, there was a hunter in this coffee shop and they were watching me very carefully. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The encounter had to be on my terms. It was imperative that I pass this off as clumsiness. So, I shook my head in faux amusement at myself, made eye contact with Nadya, and forced myself to pick up the fork again.

Immediately, intense burning flared all over my hand like I had grabbed the fork out of a molten furnace. It took everything in me to keep a calm expression. “It’s okay,” I told Nadya quietly through clenched teeth while I speared a bite off her plate to pacify her concerned look, “The fork is silver.”

Her eyes widened, glancing down at the hand that I could barely contain a tremble in, “What are you--?”

“Relax.” I told her, carefully taking a bite and placing the fork back down. The relief I felt from not being in contact with the horrid metal anymore nearly made me sigh loudly, “What small town coffee shop has genuine silver utensils?”

I saw the thought process in Nadya’s eyes as she put it together. Her face became calm as well and she casually ate another bite. “What do we do?”

“Just finish our stuff,” I answered, subtly rubbing my stinging hand on my pants to soothe the burns, “Then we’ll take a walk and see if anyone follows us.”

“Your hand,” Nadya reached for me when I put my arm back on the table. She gently grabbed my wrist, turning it around so she could quickly glance at the burns. In order to make it look like she was flirting, she began to caress my forearm. It wasn’t all an act, I could feel the underlying effects of her genuine comfort.

I smiled and gave a dismissive shrug, “It’s fine.”

There was a flash of concern across her face and I guessed it wasn’t only for my hand. Our stakeout suddenly became real. A hunter was in this coffee shop that wanted me dead or worse, and I feared for Nadya’s safety if she got in their way. We continued on like nothing was wrong in hopes to throw them off, but there was a deep seated feeling of unease that was growing inside my chest. It was telling me that we definitely didn’t go unnoticed, nor did we completely diffuse suspicion. There were eyes on us, and it took more than a little self control not to look for them.

Once we were done, Nadya looked at me expectantly, and I nodded. We casually got up, making our way to the exit with no rush. Again, I felt those eyes on our backs, scrutinizing our every movement, making my spine prickle.

My shoulder brushed Nadya’s when I stepped closer to her, “Do not leave my side unless I tell you to.” I instructed quietly.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” She replied, reaching for my unburned hand to lace our fingers together.

Her contact gave me a boost of confidence, and I pushed the front door open with a jingle from the annoying little bell on the wall. “Let’s go around the back.”

“You don’t think they fell for it?” Nadya asked.

We rounded the corner and I led her down the alley between the coffee shop and some sort of clothing store, “Nope. I think whoever set that trap knows exactly what I am. They won’t go after you though, so if I tell you to run, you run.”

“We’ve been through this before, Jay.” Nadya scolded, “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

My jaw clenched to grind my teeth at her reply. Nadya’s resolve didn’t surprise me. In fact, I expected it. I knew I should love her for it, and a part of me did, but it still scared me like always. I’d never let go of the foolish hope that one day she would listen to me if we were ever in a bad enough situation.

“Well, do me a favor and don’t be a hero.” I cringed internally at the unintentional harshness of my words.

Nadya opened her mouth to argue at the same time that I opened mine to elaborate on my meaning, but a figure stepped in our path before the argument could start. “You’re shitting me.” I cursed dryly at the sight of the boy that was fighting with the espresso machine.

I suspected that one of the employees was a hunter, but the sight of this prick with his apron still on and gun raised in an unsteady hand wasn’t what I was expecting. “Don’t you move, mutt.” He commanded with a wavering tone.

My arm instinctually moved to shield Nadya, slowly pushing her behind me. Her hand gripped my bicep nervously, the scent of her distress already spiking. Thankfully, she didn’t fight me. Not yet at least. Once I was placed between the young hunter and Nadya, I studied my enemy.

The kid couldn’t have been older than sixteen, and the way he was holding his gun, the fear in his eyes and the tremble in his body, revealed his inexperience. This was probably the first time he was out on his own. There was very little confidence in his demeanor, which was also telling. It was obvious that no backup was coming any time soon. He probably thought he could make his dad proud if he bagged a werewolf by himself. That would be his mistake.

I scoffed, “You’re a little in over your head, kid.”

“Shut up.” He spat defiantly, gripping his pistol tighter. I could see from here that the safety was still on. Then, he addressed Nadya, “I only want the wolf. You can still leave while you can.”

“He’s right.” I agreed nonchalantly. “Why don’t you go grab us another coffee?”

Nadya’s rapidly growing anxiety filled my senses, “Jay--”

“I told you to shut up!” The boy’s voice cracked, “You’re coming with me, got it?”

My eyebrows shot up, “Well, I guess I can’t argue with the big man here.” I gently pulled out of Nadya’s grip and stepped forward without breaking eye contact with the little hunter. To his credit, he stood his ground. Though he did tense at my approach. “Why don’t we just wrap this up right now, huh? Get it over with. Pull the trigger.”

“Jayde, what are you doing?” Nadya asked tersely.

My gaze didn’t leave the boy’s. “I wanna see what the kid’s got.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” He bit back.

I raised my arms briefly before letting them fall back to my sides in boredom. “I’m waiting.”

There was a quiet pause as the air filled with a thickness of all the emotions being felt. Anxiety, hatred, anticipation. Everything around us seemed to go still while the young hunter mulled over his options. I smirked at his struggle, the look on his face not entirely dissimilar to the expression he had with the machine in the coffee shop. Then boy’s face suddenly twisted in fearful resolve, and he shut his eyes tight. His finger squeezed the trigger. Obviously nothing happened.

When his eyes opened in shock and met mine, I shrugged. “The safety.”

He frowned, turning his gun to inspect it, which gave me the opportunity to attack. My left hand shot out to grip his wrist and wrench it to the side. A pained shout echoed in the alley as the gun clattered on the ground when I squeezed his wrist hard enough to force him to let it go. My right hand swung to deliver a blow to his gut. Air was pushed out of the hunter’s lungs in a groan, but he recovered quicker than I was expecting. I saw a flash of silver in his left hand before something hard and burning connected with my jaw.

I released him and stumbled back, my hand going to the area affected. I looked up to see the silver knuckles held in his fingers. A crooked grin slowly tugged at the corner of my mouth at the new challenge presented to me. This fight finally got interesting. Maybe the little brat had some tricks up his sleeve after all.

My forearm blocked his second punch from his right hand, distracting me for the half second he needed to throw another blow with the silver knuckles. The burning caught me in the mouth, splitting my lip open and filling my mouth with the first taste of my own blood. I quickly kneed him in the gut, the force of my hit sending him back a couple paces, but he remained standing.

“That all you got?” I taunted while he was doubled over and retching.

Fury glazed over his eyes at his humiliation, and he wiped his forearm under his nose. With a lackluster roar, the hunter charged me. I let his weight throw me against the side of the brick building where he kept me pinned. The impact caused me to grunt, and he pounded his fist into my ribs over and over again as hard as he could. I started to regret dragging this out once I felt that the silver really was adding more pain to his strikes. When one of my ribs cracked, I realized I needed to do something to stop this, but my mind was going a little hazy. The silver knuckles connected with my face again, making more blood flow from my mouth and nose, running down my chin and staining my shirt as much as the boy’s hand.

“Get away from her!” Nadya’s voice awakened my senses, shaking me out of my daze.

She came up behind the hunter, grabbing him and trying desperately to pull him off of me. Unfortunately, the unwanted nuisance tore his attention away from me for a horrifying moment. He spared Nadya one angry glance before swinging his elbow back to strike her in the face. Nadya cried out, stumbling away and barely keeping her footing. I saw her hand go to hold her mouth, the first trail of crimson trickle between her fingers.

The game was over now. No more fucking around. Rage lit up my eyes and made my skin tingle. I gripped the hunter’s shoulders and whipped him down to the ground with every bit of strength I could muster. All of the air was forced out of his lungs, and I sure as hell didn’t give him the chance to recover either. I drove a right hook hard into the side of his face, feeling something crunch under it’s force, and laid into him again. I pictured him hitting Nadya, and punched him one more time for good measure.

Shockingly, the guy was still conscious. His face was pretty fucked up now, but he was still kicking. Time to finish it. I didn’t really like the fact that I had to kill a kid, but he was a hunter. Maybe not as much of a threat right now, but he’ll grow up. Who knows how many families and packs this kid will murder? How many people his family has already tortured and killed? It had to be done. I knew it. The best thing I could do was to make it quick. The question was, How? I could break his neck. Shoot him in the head. Stab him in the heart…

As I was running through the options, his eyes bore into mine. He knew he was done for. Any other hunter would be glaring at me in defiance. Or cursing me out, going off about how their family members would seek revenge against me. But he was staring up at me in pure terror. The certainty that there was no way out of this was crystal clear in his watery eyes. In this moment, I wasn’t holding a werewolf hunter at my mercy. I was holding a child.

Something about it made me hesitate. It wasn’t like I haven’t killed someone like him before. Though, to be fair, those were different circumstances. Desperate times where I was alone with no other choice. And I was more or less a child myself during that time. Hell, a few years back, I would end this little twerp without a second thought. So, why the fuck was I struggling with it now?

“Jayde,” Nadya gasped, bringing me back to earth again. Her voice sounded so close, yet a thousand miles away.

My hand wrapped around the boy’s throat in resolve. I noticed with a scowl that my palms were sweaty. It has to be done. My heart began to pound. I have to protect my pack. My head was throbbing, my skin was burning and tingling. The kid’s fear filled my lungs, nearly drowning me. I have to protect my people. I wanted to be hit again. Why can’t I do it?

“Fuck.” I growled in deep frustration, switching my grip to grab his collar roughly, “If I ever see your face again,” My words were slow and menacing as I looked directly into his blue eyes with my glowing golden ones, “I will rip your throat out. Got it?”

He stared up at me, utterly dumbfounded and distrusting. “What?”

I stood, dragging the beat-up teenager with me, “If I see you again, I will kill you.” My shove was hard enough to knock him on his ass once more, “Not all of us are monsters.” I am. Or I was. “Now, get the fuck out of my sight.”

The little hunter stared up at me like I was speaking another language. Eventually, my words finally sunk in and he scrambled up to run away, glancing back at me once more before he rounded the corner like he thought I was going to change my mind. As soon as he was gone, I turned back to Nadya. The back of her hand was pressed to her lip to stem the bleeding, but she lowered it in shock. Gazing upon me like I was a stranger. Why was everyone looking at me like that?

“You let him go…” Nadya stated in wonder.

My eyes were immediately drawn to her blood. “Shit.” I hissed.

The split in her lip didn’t look any worse than mine, but I still rushed to her side and gingerly cupped her face to get a better look at it. God, I was so stupid. If I hadn’t fucked around like an asshole, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. In my lust for a fight, I neglected Nadya’s safety. It may as well have been me that did this to her. What is wrong with me?

I was carefully turning her head from side to side in case I missed anything when Nadya echoed her words, “You let him go.”

“I did.” I confirmed plainly. Finding no other injury on her that needed immediate attention, my hand went to her lower back to steer her out of the alleyway towards the car. “Let’s get out of here.”

Many quiet minutes passed in the car. Street sings barely even registered. The pain from my injuries was nothing but a low buzzing in the back of my head. It was almost maddeningly quiet as my decision really started to sink in. Well, it wasn’t really a decision. It was a mistake that I was almost certain would get someone killed. Being unable to kill a hunter wasn’t a feeling that I was familiar with. Hell, being unable to kill anyone wasn’t something I struggled with. I almost wanted to turn the car around. Track that boy down and force myself to do it. But I knew that even if I did, I still wouldn’t be able to follow through.

The panic and confusion slowly turned to anger. I wanted to punch the steering wheel and curse myself. People were counting on me. They trusted me to take care of this hunter. To keep our home safe. And I let the little bastard go because of, what, empathy? Hunters didn’t deserve a moral code. Why?

“Why?” Nadya echoed my thoughts.

Her befuddlement was starting to irritate me. “Did you want me to kill him?”

I saw her shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “It’s not about what I want.”

I scoffed humorlessly, “Well, you certainly want answers, don’t you?”

Nadya didn’t seem deterred by my mood, “You didn’t let him go because of me, did you?”

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel tighter and squeezed my eyes shut for a couple seconds. “No.”

“Then what happened?”

A long sigh escaped my lungs, and I had to hold back a wince from taking in such a deep breath, “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

The words weren’t forming because I didn’t know. And it frustrated the hell out of me. What if I froze like that when someone I love is in danger? It made me feel afraid of myself. Like I was broken in an entirely different way. How many ways can I break?

“I’m sorry.” I told Nadya with a pitiful shake of my head.

“Are you apologizing for not being able to kill a teenager?” She asked in disbelief, “Because that’s not something you should be apologizing for.”

“No, it’s not that.” My arm came up to wipe my nose when I sniffled, “Well, it kind of is, but it’s not that simple. Don’t you understand how much danger I’ve put us in? I’m just pissed off at myself and confused. I’m sorry that I got you hurt.”

Nadya was quiet for a moment, “It’s not all your fault. You did tell me not to be a hero.”

“I didn’t mean it to sound the way it did.”

“I know.”

The car fell into a silence again. One that felt like it would linger until we got home, but after a while, Nadya spoke up again, “You wanna tell me what you were doing back there?” When I frowned at her, she elaborated, “I know how you fight. You were letting him hurt you.”

“Nadya,” I sighed her name, “You really want to bring this up right now?”

“Yes, because look at you.” Her voice raised ever so slightly, “That fight could’ve been over before it started, but you just… you let him hit you. I thought you were going to let him shoot you!”

“I wasn’t going to let him do any serious damage.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Nadya shouted. It wasn’t an angry shout. It was pained. “That’s not the first time you’ve done something like that.”

Just the thought of trying to explain it to her right now made my stomach flip. “Drop it.”

“I don’t want to.” She replied in that stubborn tone.

“Well, I do.” I snapped, shooting her a warning look.

Guilt made my eyes well up when I saw Nadya’s expression. I rarely ever snap at her like that. I hated it, but I was feeling too many goddamn emotions and I didn’t need her bringing up any more grief. My eyes returned to the road because I couldn’t handle looking at her anymore, and silence returned. A silence that felt more unbearable than the last. It felt like an eternity to get home. The only good thing that the eternity gave me was enough time to calm down. And to rationalize.

So, I let the hunter boy go. Even if that blows up in my face, which I was pretty sure it will eventually, I was still confident enough in my abilities to deal with the fallout. Nadya was right. I didn’t have to feel guilty about not being able to kill a child. I couldn’t imagine how she would be looking at me now if I had followed through with her witnessing it. The way she said my name when I was trying to do it made me realize that if I hadn’t stopped myself, she would’ve tried. Maybe through her shock, she was proud of me for letting him go.

I watched a bruise already forming at the corner of Nadya’s mouth while she was cleaning me up in our bathroom. Having her home and safe helped sober me up too. “I’m sorry.”

Her warm eyes glanced at mine, but I could tell she was still a little vexed with me. “You apologize a lot, you know.”

“About the fight,” I started, ignoring her comment, “It’s hard to explain, but fighting… being hit… it makes me feel good sometimes. Like I need it or something, I don’t know.”

Nadya paused at my words, slowly lowering the hand that was cleaning off the blood. “I figured it was something like that.” She said quietly.

I gave a small nod, “You don’t have to worry.”

“Jay,” She reached for my hand, lightly caressing the bruises along my knuckles with her thumb, “I know you think you need it, but there are other things that can ground you. All you’re doing is hurting yourself. Hurting others. You know how you feel when I get hurt? I feel the same thing every time I patch you up.”

“I know.” My gaze fell, “I’m sorry.”

Nadya’s finger tapped under my chin to get me to look at her. When I did, she said, “Don’t apologize. Just try to be more gentle with yourself, okay? That’s all I want for you.”

A grin gradually formed across my lips as she casually started to treat the silver burns on my hand. “You could convince anyone to do anything, you know that?”

Half a smile tugged at the uninjured corner of her mouth, “Which is why it’s my responsibility to only use it for good.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I joked with a light chuckle. Nadya winked in response.

Once my hand was wrapped up, I set it on her waist to pull her closer while the other one lifted to rest against her cheek. “Hey,” I prompted with a stroke of my thumb.

“Hm?” She hummed, resting her forehead against mine.

“Thank you.”

I caught her smile before I shut my eyes. It made me smile too. Now that everything seemed to calm down, I got the all too familiar craving for her lips. Their softness and warmth would soothe that last bit of dread in my heart. Nadya must have been longing for the same because I felt her begin to lean in. Glad that I didn’t have to initiate, I went to eagerly meet her halfway. Our lips were just about to touch before I had a realization that made my heart freeze in panic.

The hand that was cradling her face shot down to her shoulder to stop her. “Wait.” I nearly jumped away from her.

Nadya stared at me in surprise and confusion, “What’s wrong?”

“Your lip,” I pointed out. Both of our lips were split, and even if mine wasn’t, my saliva would have still gotten into her open wound. I almost just turned Nadya into a werewolf with a kiss.

She touched her lip like she only noticed now that it was split. Then the realization of how close she came to being turned dawned on her. “Shit,” She muttered in wonder.

I was thinking the same. Frustration bubbled up in my chest again. Never did it occur to me that the hunters could take away my ability to kiss Nadya. I knew it was only for a few days or so— however long it takes for her to heal, but it still greatly annoyed me. Kissing her meant a lot to me, and the fact that they could sever that so easily made me want to punch something.

“I should’ve broken his fucking legs.” I growled under my breath.

Nadya smiled apologetically at me. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure you broke his jaw, so he won’t be kissing anyone for a while either.”

“It does make me feel better, thank you.”

She released an amused breath, “And there are other places to kiss. Like here.” Nadya brought up my hand to press her lips into my open palm, “And here.” She gently pecked the most noticeable bruise on my jaw, “Or here.” Her fingers brushed my skin when she moved my hair out of the way to expose my neck, planting a warm kiss to my pulse.

Each place her mouth touched was exactly what I needed. I felt all the complicated feelings I’ve been plagued with melt away at her contact. But where it replenished, it also made the urge to kiss her more unbearable to resist.

“You’re being a tease.” I warned.

She leaned back, sporting a smug expression, “Just think of it as extended foreplay.”

That made me laugh, and I had to hold my injured side for a second until the pain passed, “You’re terrible.” I said, pulling her in to kiss her temple.

“You love it.” Her eyes were bright with mischief.

I rolled my eyes dramatically and walked out of the bathroom with Nadya trailing close behind me.

#ocs #original characters #original writing #original story #werewolf #My writing #poor Jayde being a disaster #my ocs #Jayde #Nadya #Jayde pov

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domesticangel · 5 years

Photo

ok ive been wanting to do an OC redraw/redesign for a while now and uh, well here it is !!! top is obv the revamp and bottom is these three’s original designs ,,, the bottom pic is 9 years old (holy smokes) so i made them during my middle school emo/scene phase when i was like 12 so thats why they're.........Like That lmao but left to right in both pics is jude, elliot, and skipper!!! this was? so fun honestly

ummm lots of info/backstory about them under the cut lol

so in the original pic/designs… if I remember correctly jude and skipper were in police academy training to be cops and elliot was some punk ass kid theyd end up seeing around a lot cause he was in and out of holding for Delinquent Things, and ofc they magically became friends. Im pretty sure they were all 16/17 when I first made them which makes no sense at all (teen cops??? Ok) but like when ur 12, teenagers are Practically Adults BUT none of that is Canon TM anymore. In their redesign they range from early to late 20’s; I usually peg jude around 26-27, elliot is probably 23-24, and skipper is 21.

jude was the very first oc I ever made so shes always had a special place in my heart… I started churning out rapid fire ocs when I was in middle school that id toss when I was bored with em but shes the one that always stuck around!! Shes been a big honkin lesbian ever since her conception, so id use her a lot to express BabyGay feelings I didn’t really know how else to process. design wise I kinda just simplified her look; I have no fucking clue why she used to have an eyepatch and cat ears (I mean, I do, its because I was a weeb) but I got rid of those along with the scene hair and gave her longer hair with more natural waves and some freckles from spending a lot of time in the sun. her gray eyes and hair were always kind of her signature, so those got to stay! She mostly just wears anything that’s easy enough to move around and get work done in; tank tops, loose long skirts, etc. think futch hippy. anyways jude is now just a simple plant witch who uses her skills and connection with the elements to run a modest local farm, and even though shes fairly content in her lifestyle, she wants nothing more than a gf/wife that she can work hard to give a good life to :3c shes a hopeless romantic and has a bad habit of falling a little bit in love with every woman she meets, but shes mad shy when it comes to flirting, so more often than not shes just a sweaty ball of pining and infatuation. Whenever shes feeling some type of way about a girl she either obsessively takes on projects around the farm or house to distract herself or rants to her plants about how shes too afraid to express her feelings. RIP useless lesbian jude. Anyway shes the oldest of the trio, so shes very protective of elliot and skipper in a mother hen kind of way. She gets embarrassed when she realizes shes lecturing them like a cranky old maid, but they secretly don’t really mind it and often come to her for general life advice. I think her sign would be Taurus :3c (and probably an air moon since she’s kind of a space cadet)

elliot was REALLY FUN to redesign bc I honestly just wanted him to look like one of those people who had a HUGE scene phase way back when and just… never completely grew out of it lmao so I gave him the two-tone mullet he deserves, grown out roots hes definitely not gonna bother to re-bleach and re-dye, and piercing scars under his lip from where he used to have some tacky ass snakebites that he probably had to take out to get a job or something lol. he couldn’t completely give up piercings though, so the labret and gauges got to stay. Dudes not COMPLETELY stuck in 2007, but he does still enjoy a lot of the OG emo/punk bands and the fantasy of making it big in his own band and touring the country in a fashionably clunky van. He doesn’t exactly have a band, but hes working on that. Hes halfway decent on vocals and a guitar so he spends a lot of time combing through the local college town he lives and works in in hopes of finding some people who’d wanna play some gigs with him. But in the mean time, he works as a barista in a local café, which usually hooks him up by letting him do some acoustic sets at night every now and again. Hes a very warm and upbeat person, and will happily engage and talk the ear off of anyone close enough for him to do so, stranger or otherwise. He also regularly reminds jude and skipper how much he loves both of them and how glad he is that theyre all friends; He doesn’t really have much in the way of embarrassment or apprehension when it comes to what hes feeling. Hes the official unofficial “plan-maker” of the friend group and is able to bring them all together for quality time, because hes not at all passive like jude or skipper, and… usually has the most free time out of all of them lol. elliot is pure Leo and that’s about all there is to that

And finally, congratulations to skipper, who against all odds, looked normal enough that I didn’t really have to change anything at all about his design! Just had to ditch the uniform for your typical Tired Gay mustard sweaters. Skipper is an English major in his sophomore year of college who, like most people in their 20’s in liberal arts programs, is desperately trying to figure out what he wants out of life and also doesn’t know what sleeping or self-care is. He really enjoys writing, but doesn’t really know if he wants to do it for a living or if he even could. He grew up with pretty cold and distant parents, so on top of knowing they don’t really approve of his major, he pretty much always operates under the assumption that if hes not working himself to death hes not justifying the space hes taking up or the air hes breathing. Emotionally speaking hes more emo than elliot will ever be and his blood is probably 75% caffeine. He having kind of a rough time tbh but hes gritting it out in hopes that things become more clear eventually. He’d be way worse off if he didn’t have jude or elliot, who hes more thankful for than he can ever bring himself to express. They were essentially his first real, close friends, and despite skipper being incapable of asking for help, they always seem to know when he needs someone to talk to or even just a brief distraction; Jude has an open door policy for her farm and will let him come over and cuddle some rabbits or sit and talk over tea on her porch whenever he needs to, and elliot cant remember the last time hes made skipper pay for anything he ordered from the café, or the last time he even had to ask skipper what he wanted. Because hes the youngest of the three its sometimes their instinct to protect him, which embarrasses skipper out of his mind, but he knows they mean well. Hes the physical embodiment of Just Doing His Best and is a stone cold Capricorn

They’re still besties but basically met just from living in the same town; jude and elliot met when jude started providing the café’s local roast from the coffee beans she grew on her farm so elliot saw her fairly regularly and of course was like Oh Friend? Jude always liked how forthcoming elliot was as it complimented her generally reserved nature, and elliot always thought living on a farm and growing your own food was pretty punk rock and therefore pretty dang cool in his book. They both got to know skipper because he came to the café every. single. day. to ingest ungodly amounts of espresso and study all day, and when elliot took an interest in skipper, jude suggested he invite him to one of his gigs since the poor guy kinda looked like he needed a break. Skipper initially kind of politely shot elliot down, but jude took a chance and found skipper later to tell him how much itd mean to elliot, and that if it made him feel better she’d go with him, since going to events like this was different for her too. skipper apprehensively agreed at that point, and the rest is history !!! they all kinda hit it off after that

tl;dr

#art #oc #original character #i even named the redraw frensiswhenyouhaveabud.jpeg #i think about this sentence almost daily #jude #elliot #skipper #redraw

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alanaswriting · 6 years

Text

Two Of Us

Jonathan Byers x Reader

Request: Hey, please could I request a Jonathan Byers x reader imagine where Jonathan and y/n know each other from photography and y/n babysits all of the boys a lot and she's always really kind to Will and all of the other boys and Jonathan's literally been in love with her for years and Joyce can tell by the way he lights up whenever he sees her, but he doesn't know that she loves him back. Will keeps encouraging him to tell her, and one day in the dark room they both confess and kiss? Is this okay?💙

masterlist

Word Count: 4,700 ish

Warnings: shitty writing lmao

A/N: i love this request, it’s absolutely adorable and I’ve been looking forward to writing it! I’m sorry it took so long and that it kinda sucks. I got a little bit of writers block writing this so it’s a mess!

Please don’t steal, plagiarize or repost my writing. I work really hard on my writing as I imagine all writers do and it would suck to find out someone else is trying to claim it as theirs.

ー

*Click!*

“Jonathan!” You groan and cover your face embarrassingly.

Joyce had invited you over to babysit the boys for a little while as she went out on date night with Bob, she said something about Jonathan being busy that night so he couldn’t. Jonathan wasn’t suppose to be home until around 9pm but he got home early and you’d already ordered a pizza and rented a few movies for you and the boys to watch that Friday night so you weren’t going home now. You were staying until you got your money’s worth of rented VHS tapes and overly priced pizzas worth. Plus you didn’t mind hanging out with Jonathan for a few.

You’d had a crush on the older Byer’s boy for quite some time now but you never acted upon it. You had that small fear in the back of your mind that he didn’t like you back and it was more than enough to keep you from doing anything about it. You couldn’t risk making things awkward or uncomfortable considering you babysat the boys often, saw Jonathan in school constantly, and bumped into him in the dark room a lot since you were both interested in photography. Plus you were friends, good friends in your opinion. Risking losing him just didn’t seem worth it.

Jonathan was currently taking a few photos testing out the new camera Nancy and Steve had gotten him to replace the one Steve smashed what felt like forever ago, unfortunately due to the fact you were the only one slightly willing to let him try it out Jonathan was testing it on you. He was having fun and despite you covering your face and telling him to stop you were too.

“Last one, I promise, just sit still.” Jonathan pleaded with puppy dog eyes and you decide to just let him take one more.

Your cheeks were red from the amount of blushing you’d done since you weren’t used to having your picture taken, if anything you were usually the one behind the camera, not in front, and honestly, you liked it that way. Your hair was a mess since you hadn’t really done much with it today, only expecting to babysit not become Jonathan’s one time model and you were pretty sure you looked a mess. The lighting in the living room was dim but Jonathan thought it illuminated your face perfectly. He loved the way the dim yellow light was hitting your features.

“There, I’m done.” He finally says making you look up from the few text books you had sprawled out across the couch to make sure.

You were working on some homework while Jonathan was taking pictures since the pizza wasn’t here yet, the boys were busy finishing up their game of dungeons and dragons, and you were hoping Jonathan would help you out a little with some of it, you’d probably need it once you hit algebra. You weren’t the best in school.

Fortunately enough for you Jonathan was a straight A student, impressive was a understatement for what you thought about his academics but he always brushed it off. He was definitely humble.

“Y/N!” You hear Will’s voice come from the kitchen distracting you from your thoughts about Jonathan before his small body appeared in the doorway to the living room.

You and Jonathan both turned towards him as you gave him a small smile. Will was a sweetheart, you’d known him since forever and you really tried not to pick favorites between all of the boys but if you had to Will would probably be your favorite. He was always kind and polite, just like his brother. The two of them were definitely the children you imagined every mom wanted. Joyce raised them right.

He began to walk towards the two of you before he was eventually standing by the side of the couch. His face held a small smile and he looked like he was in a good mood, he always looked like that around his friends though. You could tell that the type of friendship they all shared was something special and rare. You were happy that he had such a good group of friends.

“Do you want to watch the movies now?” He questions with a hopeful look on his face.

You glance towards Jonathan and then back at the books surrounding you, you still had quiet a bit of homework left but you knew Will had been excited to watch the movies you’d rented since you’d let him and the other boys pick some out. You even let them pick out one rated R movie, of course you told them not to tell their parents and that it was your guys secret. They all agreed and had been pretty enthusiastic about watching it tonight with you.

They’d picked out “The Shining” and although you hated horror films you’d decided to let them have their fun, besides, thankfully you had Jonathan now and although he didn’t seem like he could protect you and all the boys from a monster from some horror movie it made you feel better that you weren’t gonna have to watch it with them home alone. He definitely could protect you all from a random monster out of a horror movie though, not that you’d know that.

“Uh, sure, just let me put some of my stuff away so you can sit down.” You say beginning to grab your heavy textbooks.

You began pushing them into your beige backpack neatly trying to hurry so Will wouldn’t have to wait long but he ran off to get the other boys anyways so he’d probably be a few seconds. You were almost halfway done when Jonathan’s hand brushes yours handing you a small book you were reading for your English class. He had a faint smile on your face and it made your heart skip a beat. You anxiously grab the book from him and set it on top of everything in your bag before zipping the material shut.

Jonathan Byers never failed to make your heart race.

Will reentered the room with Mike, Dustin, and Lucas following close behind. They all had big smiles on their faces and although Dustin had his new front teeth for awhile you still weren’t used to the pearly whites in his smile. He looked cute with them, the type of cute you’d call a baby since technically he was a baby to you. You were quite a few years apart in age.

“Here, I’ll go get a extra chair-“ Jonathan was trying to suggest so that there would be more room for everyone on the couch but Will quickly interrupted him.

“No, we can all fit on the couch.” Will shrugs but you can tell he’s looking at Mike out of the corner of his eye to back him up.

Mike glances between you and Jonathan before nodding and moving towards the couch placing himself on the far end of it. He relaxes into the worn out couch cushions and tries to take up as much room as he can before Dustin does the same. Lucas takes the chair beside the couch though and Will shoots him a smile.

“Yeah, we can all fit.” Mike says and you can’t help but feel like they know something you don’t.

You brush it off though as Will places himself next to you. It’s a pretty tight squeeze with all of you on the couch but you don’t bring it up. Your arm was brushing against Jonathan’s and your legs were touching and you couldn’t help but notice that you were the only ones squished together, Mike and Will were taking up most of the couch by their awkward positions they were sitting in and Dustin was sitting quite comfortably in the middle of them.

Jonathan was glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and his cheeks were tinted a light pink due to the closeness of the two of you and the fact your skin was pressed against his. He knew what Will and the boys were doing, they were purposely trying to get you and Jonathan together since practically everyone knew how in love with you he’d been these past years, except you of course. You were oblivious.

Jonathan definitely thought it was smooth move and it almost made him laugh at the boys attempt to bring you two together but he didn’t. He kept his laughter to himself and hoped that you wouldn’t notice what they were doing. Thankfully you didn’t, or at least he didn’t think you didn’t.

Lucas grabbed the plastic bag filled with the movies off the coffee table and grabbed the horror movie first before kneeling down on the floor beginning to set everything up. Lucas was pretty good with this stuff and probably knew more about how to get half this stuff working than you did.

It took him a few minutes of changing a few things on the TV and trying to get the VCR to play the movie before suddenly the dim TV screen came to life. Lucas smiled ear to ear in accomplishment before pushing himself back into the chair next to the couch after pressing play.

You felt Jonathan move his arm that was squished between the two of you trying to stretch it out a little. You tried to shift your position to give him more room but it only made things worse as your body was pressed more against Jonathan than it was before. Your hands were brushing against each other but neither of you had it in you to pull away from the subtle contact. Both of your cheeks were a dark red and your heart was beating out of your chest.

This was awkward.

Jonathan’s heart was racing just as fast as yours but of course you didn’t know that. He could feel the tension in the room as well but he tried his best to pretend everything was normal. That this wasn’t awkward for him. That it was just a movie and that you two were just sitting next to each other, that your every move wasn’t pressing your skin against his unintentionally and that it was driving him crazy.

Despite the closeness of you two you eventually begin to focus on the movie and for the most part it’s not as bad as you’d thought it’d be. You were honestly starting to enjoy it. At least that’s what you thought until twenty minutes in your practically jumped out of your skin at a few of the first jump scares.

“Are you good?” He whispers leaning towards your ear a little.

“I’m not really a fan of horror movies.” You respond earning a nod from Jonathan.

“Me either.” He admits with a soft smile trying to make you feel a little better.

The gesture was sweet and once again it just made your knees weak for him all over again. Thank god you weren’t standing up because you didn’t trust the jelly you called your knees to support you right now.

As the movie goes on your shoulders begin to loosen from their previous tenseness and your head starts to lean towards Jonathan slowly as time passes. Your head was resting on the back of the couch but your cheek was inches away from his shoulder dangerously close to resting there.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Jonathan either, it caused a spike in his heart rate and the nerves in his stomach intensified. He didn’t stop you or point it out though, part of him was hoping you’d rest your head on his shoulder and the other part of him was hoping something would ruin the moment so he could avoid the awkward interaction.

To both his relief and fear though eventually your head falls onto his shoulder after a few more minutes pass by. Your eyes were drooping shut due to your exhaustion and the fact you’d been working on homework and watching the boys all day. Eventually your eyes fully shut but you were still awake. You felt Jonathan shift underneath you moving his shoulder trying to make it more comfortable for you and if you weren’t so tired and out of it you probably would’ve smiled.

God, if he wasn’t the sweetest.

You fell asleep soon after that and it was just Jonathan and the boys for awhile. Time was passing quickly for everyone during your sleep. The pizza had arrived a few minutes ago, which Jonathan made Will get up and pay for so he wouldn’t wake you and the movie was almost over by now. The boys were beginning to get ready to head home since it was starting to get late and Jonathan was pretty sure Joyce was on her way home or at least would be soon.

“You should tell her.” Will says from the other side of the couch making Jonathan turn his head towards the boys.

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion even though he knew exactly what Will was talking about. He couldn’t, he didn’t have the guts. He’d thought about telling you so many times but he just couldn’t. He backed out every single time. You didn’t like him back and he knew it and it’d be selfish to ruin your friendship like that when he knew for a fact that you didn’t like him back.

“I can’t.” Jonathan sighs causing his chest to rise with a deep breath.

“You can, and you should. I don’t think you’re the only one head over heels here.” Dustin admits earning a nod from Mike in agreement.

The conversation ended there leaving Jonathan with his messy thoughts. Soon after that the boys all eventually left since the movie was over and their parents were expecting them to be home soon. Will was sitting on the couch next to you and Jonathan in silence trying to think of what to say. He wanted to convince Jonathan to tell you because he knew it’d work out perfectly, the only ones who didn’t know that were the two of you.

“I think she likes you.” Will says towards Jonathan.

The words make the corners of Jonathan’s mouth twitch upwards into a involuntary smile and he glances down at you. Your lips were parted and some of your y/c/h hair was falling in your face. The thin strands were covering your cheeks and even some of your eyes but you remained peacefully asleep regardless. You looked angelic, at least that’s what Jonathan thought.

“I don’t think so.” Jonathan responds as he keeps his gaze fixated on you.

“Maybe you’d know for sure if you told her.” Will commented quietly before pushing himself off the couch into a standing position.

Will stretches his arms and legs trying to get some relief from being crammed into the couch, he was wrong, there wasn’t enough room for all of you on that tiny couch but he felt pretty accomplished seeing you sleeping next to Jonathan so it was worth it in his eyes. He sighs before turning towards Jonathan one last time for the night.

“You’d be surprised what you’re not seeing. Goodnight.” Will mumbles grabbing a purple blanket off the couch he’d gotten halfway through the movie to cover up with.

He threw it over his shoulder and padded across the living room floor quietly towards the doorway. He glances back towards you and Jonathan with a small smile before making his way down the dark hallway trying to find his room in the dark night. He finally reached his door on the right side of the hall and begins getting ready for bed.

Jonathan still didn’t move in fear of waking you up so he just sat there with his thoughts for a little while. Should he tell you? He didn’t think he had the bravery but recently with all the encouragement his mom and Will were giving him he thought he might be able to find it in his gut to say the words. Still, did he really want to? Jonathan was never one for confrontation and he was rather shy, especially when it came to you but with you it was different, he was comfortable yet nervous all at once. He didn’t understand how that could be.

You shift in your sleep causing Jonathan to stop dead in his tracks. You pressed your body into his further and his heart began to race for what felt like the millionth time again tonight. If it kept up he for sure thought his heart would give out by the morning. He wasn’t a heart doctor but he had no doubt about it.

The affect you had on Jonathan was unbelievable.

Jonathan continued thinking about his thoughts and worries until his eyes soon felt droopy too and it was getting harder and harder to keep them open. A few yawns escaped his lips until his head rested on top of yours and he fell into a peaceful sleep as well. The position his neck was in wasn’t the most comfortable but it benefitted you and it kept you comfortable so Jonathan didn’t care about it all too much. The kink in his neck tomorrow morning would be worth it.

The two of you stayed asleep for quite some time until the jiggling of keys coming from outside the front door began to stir Jonathan a little bit. He didn’t wake up though, just shifted and turned in his spot a bit. He was just as exhausted as you were and although he was a light sleeper he couldn’t find it in him to open his eyes to investigate the noise, he didn’t care enough to.

The front door opened slowly revealing Joyce wrapped up in a winter coat carrying a small brown purse on her arm. She didn’t notice the both of you laying on the couch at first until she stepped inside and shut the door behind her as quietly as she possibly could, she assumed from the lack of noise everyone was sleep but she didn’t know for sure until she turned around to see you and her son curled up together on one side of the couch comfortably.

Her heart warmed at the sight and she couldn’t help but feel happy for the both of you. She always thought the two of you would be cute together and you had her full acceptance and approval when it came to just about everything. She adored you. She hoped Jonathan would gather the courage to confess his feelings soon because the way he looked at you in a crowded room or listened to you talk was something that gave away how much he cared for you. Joyce knew he loved you, she just wished you knew sometimes too.

Joyce set her purse down on the table beside the door and took her heavy winter coat off along with the shoes that had been practically killing her all night, it felt good to take them off and finally she felt some relief. She tried to remain as quiet as possible to avoid waking the two of you up and thankfully succeeded.

Soon after that she made her way to the empty chair Lucas was previously sitting in during the movie grabbing the blanket hanging off the back of it. She carefully walks over towards you and Jonathan gently tossing the thin blue material over you both to keep you warm and comfortable throughout the night. This wouldn’t be the first time you accidentally slept over at the Byers.

She shut off all the lights and turned the static filled TV off before making her way out of the living room into her own room to call it a night, but not before giving you and Jonathan a adored glance.

ー

“I thought you’d be here.” Your voice startles Jonathan as he stops what he’s doing immediately and turns towards you.

The dark room wasn’t giving off much light so he could barely see your features in the dim red lighting. The outline of your silhouette was standing by the doorway of the room and you had a few school books in your arms and a green backpack slung on your shoulder loosely. Your hair was pulled up into a ponytail that had began to get messy as the day went on that you didn’t bother to fix. Your soft smile might not have been as noticeable as usual in the dark lighting but it still made Jonathan’s heart skip multiple beats.

You had been searching for Jonathan for a little while to see if he could help you with some of your homework since he always offered to and you were a little lost in a few subjects. You hadn’t had to look very far to find him though since you knew where he’d mostly likely be which was here, in the dark room developing pictures he’d taken. This was like his second home at this point.

You step towards Jonathan and start walking across the picture covered room to see what he’s developing. Jonathan took so many pictures a day you didn’t really have much of an idea of which ones they could be. You assumed they’d be some of his family or maybe even strangers, maybe scenery if you were lucky. You loved his scenery shots. There was nothing else like those photos.

You were surprised to see your face in the Byers living room sprawled across the multiple pictures Jonathan was developing as you stepped closer. Some of them were done but he was still in the middle of developing a few so you knew this wasn’t all of them. There were a few of Will and Joyce in there too but it was mostly pictures of you that Friday night.

Jonathan’s cheeks were a deep red as your eyes were focused on the pictures of yourself. You couldn’t help but notice how good the pictures really were, he had captured all the right angles and lighting, you looked happy in the photos, genuinely happy. Your smile was spread across your cheeks and your eyes were a little crinkled as the heavy textbooks were resting on your lap. Your lips were parted and your hair was falling perfectly and you couldn’t help but stare in awe.

These photos were beautiful.

“Jonathan, not to sound vain but these are wonderful.” You admit only causing his cheeks to redden even more.

“It’s not really the photos as much as the person in them.” He responds as you continue to stare at the photographs.

Jonathan’s words have more meaning behind them than you really think about since you brushed off the compliment. Your eyes were staring at the pictures in awe distracted by the world surrounding you. You always knew Jonathan was talented but wow, the photos were so mesmerizing, the photos of Will and Joyce were captured at perfect moments along with the rest and you just loved them all.

Jonathan stared at you in the exact way you were staring at the photos and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His hands were numb from nervousness as he thought about confessing his feelings to you right then and there. Will’s words echoed through his head about you liking him and he had to do this.

It was now or never.

“Y/N?” Jonathan asks causing you to turn your head a little barely breaking your attention from his photographs.

You notice his serious expression and you tilt your head to the side slightly confused. Your mind wondered on if you’d caught him at a bad time or if he just didn’t appreciate the interruption your company brought while he was trying to develop his photos. You hadn’t even noticed the shaky hands or pale look on his face.

He parted his lips to speak but you watched him fumble with his words trying to figure out what he wanted to say. He looked nervous and you could tell by the way he was avoiding eye contact with you that he felt awkward. You knew Jonathan a little too well for him to hide his emotions from you.

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” You try to reassure him while putting a hand on his arm gently.

You felt nervous at his loss of words and anxious to find out what he had to say. Jonathan was always the shy type but he’d never hesitated so much to say something to you and it wasn’t reassuring. Your mind was conjuring up a bunch of things that could be wrong and absolutely none of them were positives.

Jonathan took a cautious step towards you and you watched with curiosity what he was doing. He visibly swallowed the lump in his throat and stared down at you due to the height difference between the two of you. Jonathan wasn’t incredibly tall but neither were you.

“Jonathan you’re kind of starting to make me ner-“ Your words were cut off in the middle of your sentence by his shaky voice.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He confesses and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

The two of you went silent and the only sound that could be heard throughout the whole room was your guys’ breathing. Your heart was beating about a million miles a minute and you couldn’t stop it or slow it down. Your mind was trying to comprehend what Jonathan just told you but it wasn’t sinking in. You almost thought you didn’t hear him correctly. That was until he spoke up once again.

“I shouldn’t have done that I’m sorry.” He tries to take his words back but it’s too late.

Jonathan loved you? Jonathan loved you. Jonathan was in love with you.

The thoughts kept echoing through your head and your mind was a mess inside your head. You soon realized you hadn’t responded by the way Jonathan’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern and his face was full of fear. You lazily set your books on one of the empty tables beside the two of you without breaking eye contact. You let your heavy backpack slip off your shoulder loosely and it hit the floor with a small thud.

You move your now free hands to Jonathan’s cheeks and press yourself onto your tip toes to reach Jonathan’s height. Your face was extremely close to his and you could feel his shaky breathes hitting your lips. It made you smile a little since you knew you weren’t the only one nervous here before you let your eyes flutter shut.

You lean forward and press your lips against his and his arms immediately wrap themselves around your waist. It was like instinct, everything felt right. It felt like this was how it was suppose to be. You were certain from this moment on that you and Jonathan were always gonna be more than friends, you couldn’t go back now.

His lips tasted like vanilla chapstick and mint which is exactly what you always imagined. His hands were gripping your waist loosely as the two of you moved in sync with each other. He was slow and careful, like he was afraid he was going to make the wrong move or like you were made of glass.

Jonathan tried to pull you closer to him after a few seconds but there wasn’t any space left between the two of you. The kiss was everything you’d imagined, it was like every day dream you’d ever had about it. It was perfect, the butterflies filling your stomach proved that.

Unfortunately after some time you had to pull away to catch your breath. You both parted from each other before Jonathan rested his forehead against yours. He brought one of his hands up to your cheek brushing some of the stray strands of hair behind your ear innocently.

His smile was bright and full of relief, just like yours. Your expressions were mirroring each other and you’d never felt so at peace before.

“I guess that makes two of us.” You reply to his previous words only to earn a chuckle from him in response.

Finally.

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan x reader #jonathan imagines #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers imagines #stranger things #stranger things imagines #st #st imagines #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #joyce byers

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xfilescat · 6 years

Text

something else (steve harrington x named!reader

word count: about 3k

warnings: none except language (maybe not even language, i might’ve taken out all the swearing lmao)

preview: “You were so caught up that you barely registered Hopper speaking. ‘Have you two been drinking already?’

Joyce chuckled. ‘I don’t think so, Hop. That’s not alcohol. That’s something else.’

‘Drugs?’

‘Something else.’”

A/N: umm hey guys! guess who’s back w another attempt at being a good writer!!! i gotta tell you something: i’ve literally written and scrapped like five entire fics since i posted “a river in egypt” because i do this thing where i reread something i’ve written so many times that i start to despise it. i’m basically holding myself at gunpoint to post this one because i really wanna break that cycle!! also forgive me for completely ignoring the release date of “we built this city.” this fic is set around june 1985 & the song came out in august of that year, but it’s just such a good example of a bad ‘80s song (now there’s an oxymoron for ya) that i had to pretend it came out earlier!! also, there is one prerequisite for reading this fic: you MUST either listen to or look up the lyrics to “he’s the greatest dancer” by sister sledge before you read this, otherwise you’ll be a little confused about a few jokes. anyway, i hope you enjoy cuz i had a lot of fun writing this. oh, and i’ve included a list of all the songs mentioned in this fic because i love music and i think it will help you to kinda feel what i was feeling when i wrote each scene :) so take a look!

songs used/implied/referenced: “last chance on the stairway” by duran duran

“he’s the greatest dancer” by sister sledge

“wonderful tonight” by eric clapton

“we built this city” by starship

“train in vain” by the clash

“one more night” by phil collins

June 1st, 1985 was the Hawkins High School senior prom, and from the moment you zipped up your sparkly dress and stepped into your sky-high heels, you told yourself that you were going to stick it out for the whole night. Yes, prom was an archaic, overrated triviality, but you figured that after all of the stuff that had happened last year, you could use a little triviality. Plus, you were there with Steve, so you knew that even if nothing else lived up to your expectations, you’d have a good time. He was your best friend.

You had to admit that the Hawkins High School prom committee had done a bang-up job of turning the run-down gymnasium into something halfway gorgeous. There were glimmering paper stars and streamers hanging from the rafters, a big shiny disco ball was casting flattering beams of light across everyone’s faces, and they had even gotten one of those classic balloon arches under which students posed for Mr. Comenski’s camera. It looked like a cheesy movie, but in a good way, an “I’ll remember this forever” way.

About a half hour before the end of prom, one of your favorite songs started to play. You and Steve were mingling with some friends at a table when you heard the first few notes, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the dance floor so fast you nearly knocked a couple of people over. He had to have the patience of a saint for putting up with you, for just smiling good-naturedly whenever you did things like that—which was often. When it came to you and your antics, there was never any question as to whether or not he was along for the ride. He always was.

“I gotta say,” you said after a few minutes of dancing. “This night isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.” You took his hand and twirled under it.

“I know.” Steve had to shout to be heard over Duran Duran. “This is really fun. The only thing I’d change is your dancing ability.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Sorry I haven’t mastered your signature move of standing there and bopping your head. We can’t all have your god-given talent.”

He grinned and nodded, easily sidestepping your sarcasm. “Did you know Sister Sledge actually wrote ‘He’s The Greatest Dancer’ about me?”

You laughed and placed your hands on his shoulders as “Last Chance on the Stairway” faded out and an old Eric Clapton song filled the room. “Ah, so you’re the ‘champion of dance.’”

“My moves would put you in a trance,” he confirmed as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You two began to slow dance, albeit a bit formally. There was a safe and friendly distance between you. Nothing like Carol and Tommy, who were literally making out with each other ten feet away from you. It was nice: you chatted as you swayed, joking around and singing along to the song. You shut your eyes and tried to memorize every single detail: how the way you were angled made the music sound a little louder in your right ear, how Steve’s hands felt around your waist, how badly your shoes hurt. In that moment, everything seemed special and everything seemed to be a part of something bigger and more beautiful.

Then, they cut Clapton short and started playing “We Built This City” for the second time that night and you opened your eyes the same reluctant way you do when you hear your alarm go off in the morning. You and Steve looked around at your fellow students kicking up their heels and then locked eyes in mutual confusion. You shrugged. Maybe nearly dying a couple times gave you and him a lower tolerance for bad music: life was too damn valuable to spend any second of it listening to Starship. Steve said something to you, but you couldn’t hear him. You leaned in closer. “What?”

“I said, do you wanna get out of here?”

You smiled in relief. “Yes, definitely.”

He immediately took your hand and led you off the dance floor. You made a beeline for the back door and to your surprise, he didn’t let go right away. Not even after the door swung shut behind you and there were no more crowds to get lost in.

It was tranquil outside. You could still hear the music from the gym, but other than that, there was no sound save for your heels clicking against the pavement. It made being on campus at night feel all the more surreal. So did holding Steve’s hand. “Hey,” you said, peering up at him. He looked almost unreal in the moonlight, and you had to tighten your grip on him to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. “Is this something we do now?” You started swinging your still-entwined hands. As close as you had become in the past few months, holding on this long was new.

He chuckled. “Sure, why not?”

“Alright, then. Cool.”

“Cool.”

You listened to your footsteps for a little while longer. Once you reached Steve’s car, you leaned against the passenger side while he unlocked the doors. You watched him fumble with his keys in the low light before he glanced across the roof at you. “Shannon?”

“Mhm?”

“Where are we even going?”

You rested your chin on top of your folded arms. “I dunno. Anywhere but here?”

“We could go grab some food to kill time before Tina’s party.”

You sighed. “Right. That. I forgot about that.” You knew that an after party was part of the whole prom deal, but you’d let it slip from your mind. Or maybe you’d blocked it out because it was too unpleasant to think about. Standing around in some stranger’s trashed house while your classmates did dumb, drunken shit wasn’t exactly your definition of a good time. You opened the door and slid into the passenger seat with another sigh.

Steve sat down behind the wheel and met your eyes with an authoritarian, knowing look on his face. You knew that look. You called it his “dad face.” It was usually aimed at one of the kids—or you—when they tried to do something stupid. “You don’t wanna go?”

“Don’t give me that damn look.” He laughed, and you fought back a smile before continuing. “It’s not that I don’t wanna go, it’s just that…” You trailed off.

“You don’t wanna go,” he finished for you.

You grinned. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “In all honesty, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about going, either. It’s just gonna be more of the same. Plus, Hargrove may not have shown up here, but there’s no way he’d miss out on free booze and I reeeally don’t want to deal with him tonight.”

“Exactly. So can we just ditch it?”

“Please.”

“Thank goodness.” You leaned back in your seat and sighed for a third time, this time in contentedness. “Now, what are we gonna do with all this free time?”

He thought it over for a moment as he started the car. You watched as a smile eventually spread across his face. “I have a great idea, Shan,” he said matter-of-factly, pulling out of his parking space.

“What is it?”

“Put your seatbelt on first.”

You complied. “Where are we going?”

“To a disco on the outskirts of Frisco.”

“Steve,” you giggled. “Come on.”

“Okay, okay. I know a couple of people who’re throwing a very exclusive party tonight, and it just so happens that we’re on the guest list.”

When you walked up to the front yard of Chief Hopper’s cabin, he and Joyce were sitting on the porch enjoying the weather. “You kids are back early,” he commented. You were far enough away that he had to shout for you to hear him.

“Yeah,” Steve called. “We skipped out on the whole after-prom thing.” He was helping you hold up your skirt so it wouldn’t get dragged across the forest floor. You were still in your dress and he was still in his tux even though you both had brought a change of clothes for Tina’s party. You knew that the kids would love to see you guys all dressed up.

“Good,” Hopper replied. “I don’t need any more drunk and stupid teenagers running around my town tonight doing drunk and stupid things.”

Your high heels were turning the leaves into a treacherous obstacle course, but you were determined to make it to the cabin without assistance. You stumbled once and steadied yourself, then another time, and then another time before Steve finally rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around your waist. You looked up at him and raised your eyebrows. “Is this something we do now?”

He burst out laughing and you couldn’t contain yourself, either—you were overcome by that inescapable, long-lasting kind of laughter that only inside jokes brought about. Steve’s dress shoes weren’t ideal for traipsing through the woods, either, so with all your giggling, neither of you were very surefooted. About thirty feet from the porch, you stepped onto a particularly slippery patch of leaves and went down, taking Steve with you. This only served to exacerbate your laughing fits. It suddenly seemed like absolutely everything was funny, from the leaves in your hair to the awkward position you had landed in. You were so caught up that you barely registered Hopper speaking. “Have you two been drinking already?”

Joyce chuckled. “I don’t think so, Hop. That’s not alcohol. That’s something else.”

“Drugs?”

“Something else.”

“Ah.”

After a few more seconds of mindlessness, Steve stood up and helped you to your feet. “Alright,” he said, dusting himself off. “We’re gonna make it this time. Are you good?”

You winced as you stretched out your arm and felt a fresh soreness in your elbow. “I’m good enough. I just need to…” You grabbed his shoulder and reached down to take off your shoes. “There. Now I can walk.” You bunched up your skirt so it wouldn’t drag and started toward the cabin. Steve fell into step beside you and muttered something under his breath about how you should’ve just taken your shoes off earlier. You went wide-eyed. “Oh, okay! Keep it up, Steve. Keep it up and you’ll be wearing these shoes.”

He laughed and looked at you like you were crazy. There was something else in his eyes, though, something intense and admiring, that threatened to send you reeling back down to the forest floor. “What the hell does that even mean?” His playful tone of voice was completely out of sync with that look.

“You heard me,” you replied, but you said it to the ground so he wouldn’t see you blush.

Once you reached the porch, you made small talk with Hopper and Joyce until a cacophony of voices drew you inside the cabin. The kids were huddled in front of the television watching some old soap opera. From what you could tell, they were parroting lines from the show in ridiculous voices and completely losing their minds over it. “Alright, kids,” Steve called as he took a seat at one of the chairs at the kitchen table and kicked off his shoes. “Party’s over. We’re back.”

El turned around first. When she saw you, her jaw dropped and she immediately ran over. “You look so pretty,” she said emphatically, twisting the skirt of your dress so that it sparkled in the light. You beamed and ruffled her hair.

Steve watched this interaction with that same dazzled look on his face from a few minutes before. When you met his eyes, however, he cleared his throat and turned to look over at the rest of the kids. “So, what have you guys been up to?”

Max leaned over the back of the sofa. “Never mind what we’re doing. Why are you home so early?”

“Yeah, it’s prom,” Lucas said. “Aren’t you supposed to be out all night?”

“I bet they got kicked out,” Dustin teased.

Mike scoffed. “They didn’t get kicked out. They’re not cool enough to get kicked out.”

“We didn’t get kicked out,” you confirmed. “Prom’s over. We just didn’t go to any after parties ’cause we’d rather hang out with you guys.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “And by the way, we are so cool enough to get kicked out.”

He and the kids then launched into a ridiculous debate about what you two would’ve had to have done to get yourselves thrown out of prom. You stopped listening after Will posited that you guys could have been shown the door because you only hung out with middle schoolers. You instead focused your attention on El, who was still studying your dress. “Shannon,” she said thoughtfully. “What is prom like?”

You motioned for her to follow you over to the couch. “Prom is really cliché, but really fun. You get to dress up and see your friends and just have a great time.” You set your high heels on the floor and relaxed into the cushions.

El sat down next to you and folded her legs. “What do you do there?”

“You dance, mostly.”

“Like at the Snowball?”

You half-smiled, half-cringed as memories of tense, uncomfortable slow dances with nervous preteen boys at your own Snowball flashed through your mind. “Yeah, sorta. But dancing at prom is different.”

“Different how?”

You thought about it for a minute. “Honestly, I can’t explain. It’s just different.”

“Geez, Shan. Don’t be so cryptic,” Dustin interrupted as he flopped onto the adjacent sofa. The debate must have been resolved because Steve and the others make their way over, too. Steve joined Dustin on the couch while Mike, Will, Max, and Lucas sat down on the floor.

You chuckled. “I’m not being cryptic! It’s just different. Here, you know what? We’ll show you.” You stood up and held out your hand to Steve.

He tore his eyes away from the television. “We will?”

“Just get up.”

He grinned, stood up, and took your hand. You started to pull him into the kitchen where there was more open space. “Wait,” he said, trying and failing to dig his sock-covered heels into the wood floor. “We’re gonna dance to this?” Something by The Clash was playing.

“No, not this.” You dropped his hand when you reached the kitchen and walked over to the radio. “Something more like…” you let yourself trail off as you tuned through different stations looking for an appropriate song: something slow, something sweet. You stopped when you heard the beginning of “One More Night” and turned it up loud. “Something more like this,” you said, walking back into the kitchen.

“Okay, everybody,” Steve said to the kids once you’d reached him. “Pay attention.” Five out of the six of them regarded you two with a casual interest, but El looked completely engaged. “If you’re leading, you’re gonna keep your hands right about here,” Steve said, putting his hands on your waist.

“That’s right,” you said. “No higher, no lower. Now, if you’re not leading, you’re going to put your hands on the other person’s shoulders like this.”

“We already know this stuff,” Mike interrupted. “We’ve all danced before.”

“Yeah,” Dustin agreed. “Hey, Mike, remember when your sister practically begged me to dance with her at the Snowball?” Mike whacked the teasing smirk off Dustin’s face with a pillow.

Steve shrugged. “Well, then consider this a refresher course.”

“And I told you, dancing at prom is different,” you added. “It’s a lot slower.” You began to move to the music.

“And closer,” Steve said, guiding you toward him until you two were pressed right up against each other. You looked at him and widened your eyes a little. That wasn’t how you had danced together at prom.

“So, uh, from here on,” you said quietly, “you just sorta sway.”

Steve nodded. “It’s easy.”

After that, neither of you spoke for a while. You just held each other and stepped from side to side. During the silence, Phil Collins sang the lyric “I will always be with you” and you realized that this wasn’t how best friends were supposed to dance with each other. The kids seemed to have picked up on that, too, because they’d all pointedly fixed their gazes back onto the TV. Out of nowhere, you began to laugh. You laughed because you were nervous, and you were nervous because you were young and a little in love. Steve leaned back and looked down at you. “Are you okay?” He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.

You moved your head in some semblance of a nod. You had stopped dancing by then and you started to sink down to the floor. Steve sat down, too, eyeing you cautiously. “Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know,” you managed to say. “I have no idea.” You squeezed your eyes shut and took a few deep breaths. Once you were calm, you opened your eyes and looked over at Steve. When you saw how utterly confused he was, though, with his face all scrunched up the way it gets when he’s doing his math homework, you started to giggle anew. This time, he did, too. You let yourself fall against his chest, your shoulders shaking with the force of your laughter. You felt giddy and weightless; you imagined that this must be what it felt like to be drunk. At some point, you lifted your head up just as he bent his down and your lips gently and innocently brushed against his.

The laughter stopped instantly as if someone had flipped a switch. At once, you drew his face to yours and kissed him again, this time on purpose and with fervor. He clutched you closer and reached one hand up to cup your cheek. Kissing him was like laughing with him: it was easy, it was intoxicating, and it was incredibly hard to stop. You only paused to pull away when you felt him smile against your lips. “What?”

He was already snickering. He could barely get the words out. “Is this—is this something we do now?”

You both fell back into hysterics and collapsed against each other. Your stomach was killing you and your eyes were watering and your bruised elbow was caught between Steve and the cabinet behind him, but you didn’t care. Especially not after Steve threw his arms around you and kissed you urgently. In that moment, you knew you weren’t just best friends anymore. You were something else.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things reader insert

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countcalebwrites · 7 years

Text

My military experience Pt. 2

So yeah. I left out a few things in Pt. 1. Minor stuff. The time I pretended I had to use the bathroom to give my foot a rest. I left out a lot of stuff about marching. We had to march. A lot. At specific cadence. The training instructors were trained to look at everyone’s timing at once, so you best not fuck that up.

When you talk to a training instructor, you’re required to start the statement off with “Sir/Ma’am, Trainee [last name] reports as ordered!” Exception being simple statements like “Yes sir” and etc.You’re also required to say “permission to adjust?” if you want to move your hands while talking. The training instructor I had reminded us a lot, as if you don’t say that before moving your hands, he’s allowed to take violent action towards you.

Another thing I left out in Pt. 1 was my first lunch break. I thought lunch time would be a rather chill moment and a break from all the hostile shit, but boy was I wrong! You’re supposed to carry your food and walk a certain way or you get CHEWED out. When you walk by all the instructors who are eating, they look for things to chew you out on. Scary. You’re not allowed to talk during lunch, or you also get chewed out. I experienced this. I asked someone to pass the ketchup and my training instructor flipped. So I tried to use sign language and pointed at the ketchup then I pointed at myself. They understood. I was halfway done with my food and then lunch ended. You’re supposed to eat REALLY fast.

Anyway, it was eventually recommended that I get transferred to med-hold. I didn’t tell my training instructor about this for a while. Idk. The news got out in my dorm that I was transferring out. Some dudes walked up to me and told me they liked me and didn’t want to see me go. That was pretty touching cause I didn’t think anyone cared about me like that. One dude asked if I ever went to LSU, and how he almost played against them as a punt returner, but he got kicked out of college for weed and ended up joining the air force as his new path.

Real shit.

Anyway, I packed all of my stuff in this heavy ass bag and got escorted to my new dorm. I had a wingman who was being seperated from training. He got into a fight with someone. He was on one of the last weeks of training, too. I figured I shouldn’t fuck with him.

We had to wait in this office to talk to this high-ranking dude before getting transferred. I was pretty bored. I decided to read the small bible they gave me at church. I got yelled at for reading that and was told to read my air manual. I was like “aight whatevs” in my head. I didn’t care what I was reading. I read some of the combat section of the manual. It told me that kicking someone in the balls is a very viable combat strategy. Word.

Got called in. Dude asked me my plans in life blah blah. Then he approved of me leaving.

One rule I didn’t mention is the fact you’re supposed to have a hat on outside at all times. You’re also never supposed to wear it indoors. You have to develop a quick technique of folding it and unfolding it a lot to put it in your pocket. I had my heavy ass bags and etc and I forgot to put my hat back on when I walked outside. A training instructor backed his truck up and yelled “HEY YOU. NICE HAT. REAL NICE HAT YOU GOT THERE. NICE HAT MAN!!!”

My personal training instructor (who didn’t notice I didn’t have my hat on) told me to put it on. Fuckin weirdos.

Fast-foward. I’m in med-hold. Med-hold is where you go if:

1. you are injured

2. you are overweight or underweight

3. you are suspended/about to seperate

If you fall into one of the above categories, you go to med-hold and they decide what happens next. Some people get sent back to training if they get their weight right or their injury heals. Some people get sent home after further doctor visits and etc. That was me.

Med-hold isn’t nearly as hostile as the rest of the training, but it can be. Some of the people there might have mental disorders, so the training instructors are a bit more chill. After I got briefed on everything and temporarily got my cellphone back to call my parents, I went to my new dorm. I pretty much went to sleep immediately. I was even more sleep-deprived than I was before.

When I woke up, this white dude was laughing at me saying I was in a pretty deep sleep, as he was shooting rubberbands at me the whole time without me flinching. I didn’t really know how to respond to that. His nickname was McCrazy, and you can kinda guess why they called him that.

Uusually med-hold dorms have a training instructor, but they just happened to be short on people. So we kinda had our own rule there. We had pretty crazy dorm chief. (a dorm chief is the same rank as you basically, but he’s responsible for keeping order and can tell on you to a training instructor)

One time, after we showered, he walked out naked and said “everyone admire my HUGE dick. Don’t worry, it doesn’t make you gay to admire a dick.”

One morning he woke up and began singing “I love my mamacita, I give her my burrita”

Another time he walked in and said “yo I was on a scouting mission to see what kinda bitches I can fuck when I get outta here”

This one white dude referred to him as a “stereotypical black dude” which landed him a side-eye (from me). Anyway, dorm chief basically tore his ACL during training and wasn’t allowed to go home or anything because the military pretty much doesn’t like to send people home with injuries to avoid lawsuits or something like that.

I kept to myself for a good while, but med-hold is SO BORING. You’re required to clean your dorm and make your bed and report every morning and etc, but you’re mostly not doing anything except for talking to people in the dorm if you’re not going to one of your doctor’s appointments.

I ogt so bored I started doing a lot of real-life trolling. Like walking up to this one guy and saying “say bruh, you wanna start something?” all menacingly. Then saying “Cause you look rather educated, I think you’d make a good partner if we started a business” He laughed and told me “man I thought you were tryna fight or something”

I did this kinda stuff a lot. One day I wrapped myself in tattered sheets and told everyone I’m an ancient sorcerer who can cast spells. Don’t judge me, I had to entertain myself somehow!

Other people had their own troll routines too. This one dude I knew (we were very cool) pretended to be gay a lot. It was probably a kinda homophobic routine, but it was just hilarious to me because of how he executed it. Like one time we were all going upstairs and he yelled “mmmhmmm. get yall sexy asses up them stairs”

Then another time he walked up to me and he was like “yo man, you tryna get me to suck yo dick or something?? Walkin’ round here like that” lmao

There were a lot of hypothetical discussions and etc in our dorm. “Who would win in a fight, Hulk or Goku?” I pretty much said Goku for every hypothetical. Eventually our dorm chief chimed in and he was like “man. Y’all niggas should be picking Goku everytime for that shit”

Speaking of the dorm chief, he eventually told me “Yo Bailey. You didn’t really talk much when you first got here, but you talk a lot now. Even though you’re fucking weird, I’m glad you’re talking and shit now”

There was this one dude in our dorm, he was in charge of door duty. That’s not the official name for it but yeh, it was door duty. Basically, you sit/stand at the door and do a security clearance for people exiting and entering. People have to show ID and you’re supposed to verify it and ask them to come in. I did this duty a few times.

One time a training instructor came (you’re supposed to screen training instructors too) and I asked him to ID and he told me his name. I thought this was a trick and asked him to show ID again and he told me “OPEN THIS GOD DAMN DOOR” and I was like “*cough* access granted” and let him through.

Another time, a dude from a different dorm came and asked for our dorm chief. I told my dorm chief and he was like “yo tell him I’m not here” So I did. Then the dorm chief said “wait nevermind” and came to the door. The guy I just lied to looked at the chief, then looked at me and said “yooo you bitch ass nigga” lmao

Anyway, the door duty guy was weird. He was from Wisconsin. He told me that there’s not many black people from Wisconsin, so he wanted to “study” me. Weirdo.

Speaking of racism, this one white dude got transferred in our dorm, and I HATED him. He was really racist. He made jokes about black girls being too loud and I wanted to beat his ass. The assistant dorm chief who was afro latino basically said he was excited to bully that guy.

Every week, we were required to attend a “don’t kill yourself” meeting. It was boring as shit. But that was clearly an issue, as some people probably ended up mentally fucked from knowing they were stranded there for so long if their injury took too long to heal.

At times, it felt like I’d never get to home or return to training.

I had a few appointments I ended up going to. One I went with this one dude, I remember his last name was Farr. He was cool. I remember we debated some random shit in the waiting room and we asked this one woman for her take and when she left he said in a semi-british accent “I must say, she had quite nice cleavage” The accent was funny cause he was definitely a southern black dude.

But yeah. to be honest, she did. He wasn’t lying. Speaking of cleavage, this might be TMI, but I thought I developed erectile dysfunction or some shit. I hadn’t been sexually aroused in so long lmao

Anyway, I also remember the TV talking about Clint Eastwood talking to a chair or some shit? Was weird. Being in military training kinda cuts you off from the rest of the world. I had no idea what kinda stuff was happening in the news.

The foot specialist doctor who saw me told me there was pretty much nothing that could be done for my foot except surgery, and that the military wouldn’t want to pay for that.

He was right. After rehab and a few more checkups, I eventually got an orange armband. That armband means you’re getting sent home eventually.

Eventually. Like I said, it’s not a simple process. A lawyer has to terminate your contract, etc. All that waiting sucked.

I remember the A/C dying and us being allowed to go to the mall and shop and shit with our paychecks. That was cool. We HAD to leave and not stick around be cause San Antonio is hot as fuck. It was regularly 100 F and we had winter uniforms on. Some dudes bought magic the gathering cards, yugioh cards, etc. One dude bought a basketball for some reason. I didn’t really buy shit.

I remember going to this one chicken place on the base and falling in love with the girl who took my order for my chicken tho. I was telling myself stuff like “Damn...she def wants me cuz she took my order with a genuine smile. Then I had one of my trademark inner debates. Like “nigga, that’s what she’s paid to do. She don’t want your ass. You can’t talk to women here anyway.”

The more cynical me had a point.

Anyway, after we ate I remember us going to this old ass theater and watching a movie. It was Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I got nacho cheese on my uniform and it came right off and I was all amazed by the stain technology. Diary of a Wimpy Kid wasn’t memorable, by the way. I forgot what happened.

Oh, I forgot to mention: I was sick. I had the damn flu. Sharing space with 30+ dudes probably does that.

Remember the racist guy whose ass I wanted to beat? One time I came back and found him drinking out of my canteen. It had my name on it. I told him to keep it. Who knows what kinda germs that shithead had. $10 down the drain!

When we got our A/C back, things were a lil better. I was still pretty sick, but at least I wasn’t going through extreme temp changes anymore. We kept having our nerdy discussions. This one dude was talking about his Pokemon team and naming pokemon whose names I didn’t recognize. I was kinda upset by that cause I used to run a Pokemon fansite. Smh. He was a native dude from Louisiana. He told me if he lived in the town I’m from, he’d probably kill himself.

Aight then.

I ended up coughing a ton from being sick. Especially at night. Oh, by the way. Two people are required to patrol the dorm at night while everyone sleeps. I had that duty once. The buddy I mentioned earlier who would do the gay trolling routine told me to drink water and don’t worry about doing my patrol, he’d handle it for me. I really appreciated that.

I didn’t want to keep people up with my coughing and sickness, so I slept in the bathroom. It’s not as bad as it sounds. One time someone walked in, pissed, and left. Then he went back in and did a doubletake towards me and went “Yo Bailey, WHAT THE FUCK”

and left.

Weeks passed. I’m still not home yet. I was getting really annoyed. Also, time seems to go by a LOT longer in a military dorm. My first day felt like an entire week had passed. One time I volunteered to help deliver some documents. That was a good idea. The people I delivered the documents for told me they’d help me get home faster for helping them.

The day finally came. My name was called. “You get to go home” I was so happy. Wearing regular clothes again felt wild. As a trainee, you’re kinda trained to move out of the way for training instructors and higher-ranked people. When I had on jeans and a t-shirt, I moved out of the way in this hallway for an instructor he was like “hah, it’s cool brotha, just pass”

I felt human again. Not being yelled at by an instructor felt legit. This one guy called me by first name, which I had to get used to again. Was kinda weird.

I got to the San Antonio airport and this one military guy saw me with documents in my hand (they were military seperation documents) he was like “yo you getting deployed bruh?” I was like “nah, the opposite lol”

Ended up at the airport in Dallas. I was alone this time. I ended up lost for 45 minutes. That airport was fuckin huge. Imagine a sick dude in an airport wandering around for almost an hour. Not pretty. My flight to New Orleans was delayed anyway though.

Finally got to New Orleans. Finally got home. Got on my computer. Played Channel Orange. I wanted to listen to that so bad for some reason.

SHE’S GIVING ME...PLEAASSSSUREEEEEE

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