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luvtak · 9 months

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of weepy afternoons, lhc

❀ pairing lee haechan x afab!reader

❀ tw/genre est. relationship, super fluff, domestic, crying, reader’s on their period, reader is referred to as ‘girl’ a couple times and her cheeks are described to be red once :/, criminal amount of references to the movie enchanted

❀ a/n i wrote this in like an hour so it could be real rough haha, inspired by my very real need to watch enchanted when im on my period. i wrote this with this couple in mind <3 hope you enjoy it and happy august!!

❀ w/c 1058

When Haechan got home, he didn’t expect you to look so sad. There are so many ways he can envision your welcome, anywhere from loud laughing to big bear hugs, but he would never expect you to be bent over and shaking.

When he left this morning, you were buzzing with energy, telling him about all your plans for the day and how excited you were for him to be back with you. Now, you were sat on the couch sniffling into a throw pillow—making no moves to acknowledge his arrival, shoulders shaking with your cries. In the back of his mind, he can hear the TV slowly letting out noise, but with your crushed look, eyes finally raising to meet his he ignores it, and slowly approaches, as if you were a wounded animal: and you might as well be with your glossy eyes and red cheeks, you look so small: his usually tough girl tiny by comparison.

“What’s wrong, honey? He asks when he finally gets to you, lowering himself to be eye level with you, “What happened, huh?” His head is turning like a confused puppy, looking at you with so much worry and affection you can’t help but cry more. You cry because he’s home and you missed him, you cry because the house is a mess and you promised you’d clean up, but most of all you cry because he’s being dumb and it’s obvious why you’re upset (or so you think).

“I—I don’t know, just my heart hurts for them you know?” Your voice is scratchy, showing him that you really must have been breaking down for quite a while. He wonders who you’re talking about, if he’s forgetting something about one of your friends or wasn’t listening when you told him something important, but nothing comes to mind.

“Who, baby? Who’s hurting?” At his confusion all you feel is annoyance, it’s obvious whose hurting, it would be right in front of his face if he just looked.

“Them! Hyuck look at the TV! this is so sad, they’re just so in love, but they can’t be.” And he does look, but all he sees is Enchanted playing on the television. Combined with your sobs is the soft playing of ‘So close’ as Giselle and Robert dance around the ballroom—and suddenly everything begins to make sense.

From the very beginning of your relationship, every time you’ve gotten your period you’ve been drawn to Enchanted like a moth to a flame. Needing to watch the love story and cry your eyes out, as he has to unfortunately watch. He can’t count how many times you’ve sadly announced it’s your time of the month and then promptly turned on the movie.

While he could be annoyed or bitter at the constant playing of sing-alongs, all he feels is endeared, so he quickly cuddles into your shaking figure. Hugging you with both arms and legs like a koala, hoping that his affection will somehow cure your blues. He gives you a series of wet kisses, laughing and cooing at how sweet you are to be a grown girl and still crying at Disney films.

“Oh, my baby, why didn’t you call me earlier? I would’ve come home to you.” And you know he’s telling the truth, if he had even a whiff of you being sad and alone and hurting, he would’ve rushed back with ice cream and flowers galore. He knows millions of people go through this every month, but he can’t stomach the thought of his Honey in pain—all alone with nothing and nobody but Disney plus to comfort you.

“I didn’t want to bother you, you’re so busy and I can watch this all by myself.” You’re putting on a front, looking bravely at him even as the tears flow freely from your eyes. Inside, you know that half the reason you’re crying is because you missed him. Usually, he’d be there to sit with you, laughing and cuddling you at all the right times, and if you were lucky and he was in a good mood he’d sing along to the music like a lullaby.

However, you understand he is a busy boy—his schedule filled up with several commitments that he can’t just walk out on, even if he would. There’s too many people relying on him, and you can’t call him every time your tummy hurts, and your hormones go crazy (even if the hurt feels like a knife repeatedly stabbing you all over your lower body and then laughing at you).

“My silly silly girl, I’m never too busy for you. I know I can’t do much but I’m sure cuddling you and remembering to bring you your pain killers is enough, right?” and it is. There’s something so lovely about him, even if it’s the bare minimum. Your boyfriend never shies away from these conversations, he thinks it’s important that he knows and appreciates everything about you. Even if he can’t fully understand—especially if he can’t understand.

Donghyuck’s love language is really just being obsessed with you, knowing the ins and outs of your everyday life, and loving you more for it. As he sits with you now, he can see fully what he missed before—the telltale signs of your period running its course—the pinch in your forehead and the deep eyebags, and parts of him do feel ashamed he’s only now picking up on it.

“I’m sorry your body and your heart hurts, my honey bear, let’s start the movie over and take a nap, huh? How does that sound?” and even though your nose scrunches at his cheesy nickname, and you know the movie will just make you cry again—you look at him and agree.

He's wrapped around you, and he smiles, hoping your body will benefit from his body heat pressing into yours, smacking kisses all over your face until you’re laughing, and his gentle pecks begin to miss. And you know He’ll hold you tight all day, warming you up from the inside. He’ll tell you he loves you; he’ll tell you over and over again if it helps the pain wash away. And you know if you ask to watch Enchanted again, he’ll put it on with no complaints and sing along with you.

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kitsune-oji · 8 months

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Hi! I saw that post of the 22nd of August when you asked if anyone had ideas for fics, could I suggest a fic where Mammon comforts a gn MC who is scared to death after an horror game marathon with Levi but tries to hide it?

I hope I respected the rules and this made sense, English isn't my first language.

I wish you the best of days.

With You

I don't have to feel scared

Thank you for this cute idea!! Your English is very good, don't worry :) it's not my first language either btw. I hope you like it ✨

Mammon x/& gn! Mc (you/yours)

Word count: 653

Warnings/Tags: comfort, fluff, Reader being scared after playing horror games and being a bit shy

It was fun, it really was. You enjoyed playing with Levi and the fact that it was a horror game was alright too. While you were there, even though you jumped and yelled and held on tightly to the blanket in your lap or the controller, you weren't too scared.

But now it was different.

Levi wasn't next to you anymore, yelping and saying you scared him by getting scared yourself. You didn't have anything to focus on, no goal in a game to work towards. Somehow, not actually being in such a suspenseful situation made it worse.

The darkness of the corridor, the endless silence stretching on until you got to your room. Every little creaking sound made you flinch and look around, as if expecting something to jump out from the next corner and see something crawl away in the corner of your eye.

Sort of stupid, wasn't it? When you lived in a house with demons, one would think you wouldn't get scared so easily anymore. Unfortunately it didn't work that way.

Your room felt cold and uninviting when you stepped over the threshold. Even turning the light on didn't save you from the uncomfortable, anxious feeling in your gut. Images from the game kept flashing through your mind, scary scenes replaying again and again to the point you feared they would actually manifest in real life.

You couldn't be alone. Not right now. Should you go back to Levi? Maybe not, you weren't sure. Either way, you needed someone around you, so you quickly walked out of your room again and screeched when suddenly there was someone right in front of you.

Mammon held his ears and shot you a look you couldn't quite place. It wasn't happy at least.

"It's just me, what the hell is your problem? Damn that hurt..."

Despite his choice of words, he didn't sound too angry. You tried to calm your racing heart.

"I noticed ya weren't with Levi anymore so I thought I'd come over. What's with the screaming? I don't look that horrible."

He really didn't. Mammon was like a sight for sore eyes, his mere presence made you feel better already. Yet your hands still shook.

"I'm sorry, I-, there's just, I wasn't, I'm just a bit.. jumpy right now", you stuttered, trailing off and looking at Mammon's reaction tentatively.

His eyebrows lifted and you could basically see a lightbuld over his head lighting up.

"What, yer scared cause of some dumb video game? Why did ya play it then?"

"I wasn't that scared when we actually played it, it's just, now that everything is quiet I keep thinking about it..."

He blinked, then looked to the side and scratched his neck, stepping from one foot onto the other.

"Ya know...", he started, "If you want me to keep you company, you just gotta say it."

You tugged on one of his sleeves until he looked at you again and nodded. There was a pause before Mammon took your hand from his sleeve and held it in his own instead. Looking straight ahead, he marched towards his room with you. You could see the tips of his ears twitching slightly.

Once you were in his room, Mammon put on one of his action movies. The sounds of racing, explosions, gunfire and talking was much better than the suffocating silence from before. You crawled under the blanket with him and he tugged you close to his side when you leaned against his shoulder.

Like this, all the fear from before felt so far away. Like a distant dream.

Slowly, you closed your eyes and took in Mammon's scent, the sounds of the movie, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his arm securely around you. With your own demon, you didn't have to fear anything else coming to hurt you. He would be stronger than them all.

#obey me shall we date #mine #om! swd #race neutral mc #gender neutral reader #obey me nightbringer #gn mc #fluff #obey me mammon #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #Writing #Drabble #Ficlet #Comfort #mammon x reader

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blowflyfag · 8 months

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World Wrestling Federation Magazine : August 1989

Transcript Below!!!

The Rockers Sing

“The Rougeaus Are Gonna Roll”

By Keith Elliot Greenberg

The Fabulous Rougeau Brothers did it for a song. What was supposed to be a match between two of the World Wrestling Federation’s quickest teams never made it into the ring–all because of a disagreement over the music blaring over the public address system. Instead, Jacques and Raymond Rougeau–egged on by their manager Jimmy “Mouth of the South” Hart-put on one of the most shocking spectacles in recent memory at ringside. When they were done, Rocker Shawn Michaels was battered and bleeding, lying on the arena floor, as his concerned partner, Marty Jannetty, bent over him calling for a doctor–and vowing vengeance on the brothers from Memphis, Tennessee.

“Did you see what my All American Boys did tonight?” shrieked Hart. “To show what patriots they are, they beat that wimp Michaels red, white and blue like the flag. Some people might say we went a little bit overboard, but the Rougeaus believer you can’t go far enough ||Above: The Rougeaus and Jimmy Hart insult the Rockers. Left: Shawn Michaels was so badly injured during the attack that he needed medical assistance. Inset: Marty Jannetty helps his partner.|| when you’re fighting for Old Glory.”

Raymond Rougeau drew a parallel between Michaels’ condition and the Rockers’ new entrance song, The Rockers.

“The word ‘suffer’ comes to mind first,” Raymond giggled. “The song is so bad it makes you suffer–but not as badly as Michaels did. The Fabulous Rougeau Brothers really care about all our fans in the United States, and we couldn’t stand the thought of that song giving them an earache. So we made Michaels ache, and now hopefully the Rockersknowto be kinder to our fellow citizens.”

In the Dressing room, the Rockers were not in a laughing mood. As the doctor tended to his partner, Jannetty briefly spoke to WWF Magazine: “The Rougeaus have done themselves in. Those snickering idiots think they can do anything they want and get away with it. They’ve gone too far this time. Shawn and I have always prided ourselves on being gentlemen. Well, now we’ve been pushed over the limit. The next time we meet the Rougeaus, we're going to be twice as vicious as they are. Next time, Jacques and Raymond are going to be the ones who need the doctor!” Hart claimed that the Rockers’ anger will make the meeting easier for his team. “Those two rock ‘n’ roll burnouts are so blind with rage they can’t even see the bright colors on their tights. They’re dumb to begin with, but now it will be impossible for them to come up with a strategy to wrestle my Fabulous Rougeau Brothers . Jacques and Raymond wont even have to get into the ring. The Rockers are so out of whack they’ll be bouncing into each other.”

He added, “If they hadn’t disrespected the Rougeaus so blatantly, this whole episode never would have happened.”

The episode began with the Rougeaus’ coming down the aisle to the tune of their theme song, All–American Boys. With Jimmy Hart leading them, they made faces at spectators and a WWF camera crew, while waving small American flags.

Suddenly their music stopped mid-beat . The Rougeaus, standing at ringside, looked confused as The Rockers boomed over the sound system and Micahels and Jannetty soared into the ring. Fans cheered while the Rockers bounced off the ropes, anticipating the match-up, but their opponents refused to leave the arena floor.

Commentator Tony Schiavone approached Hart’s Squad to inquire about their reluctance to climb between the ropes. The irate manager lashed out at the Rockers’ music, which was still playing.

“That sounds horrible!” Hart wailed, his voice cracking. “Who has the right and the nerve to take off the Fabulous Rougeau Brothers’ music and put that garbage on there? These guys can’t sing! They’re off-key! They’re horrible, man! Horrible!”

The microphone was handed to Raymond Rouageau, who alleged that The Rockers was recorded to || The brawl was vicious. While Jannetty chased Hart, Jacques and Raymond brutalized Michaels. The self-proclaimed Fabulous Brothers did not let up. Using Hart’s megaphone, the Rougeaus battered Shawn’s throat repeatedly. All the while, Hart looked on, satisfied.|| imitate and mock All-American Boys. He called Michaels and Jannetty “copycats,” continuing, “You are a disgrace to all these people here, and you’re also a disgrace to all the people in our United States of America!”

After a round of boos subsided, he went on, “You do not deserve to get into the ring with us. So we have decided that we’re not going to wrestle you tonight.”

To further demean the Rockers, Jacques and Raymond turned their backs on them, arms raised triumphantly. Unwilling to endure this humiliation, the Rockers flew out of the ring, engaging their tormentors in a slugfest. While Michaels and Raymond rolled on the floor exchanging punches, Hart smacked Jannetty from the rear. Incensed, the Rocker turned around and lumbered toward the sneaky manager. Jannetty did not realize that he was playing into Hart’s hand until Jacques snuck behind the Rocker and kneed him into the ring post. Holding his head, Jannetty fell onto the ground.

In the meantime, Raymond and Michaels were continuing their struggle. Michaels was behind his adversary, gripping him around the chin when Jacques tipped the odds to two-on-one. He ax-handled Michaels from behind, then grabbed his arms and opened him up for Raymond's punches. Both Rougeaus pummeled the Rocker before executing a maneuver that would turn a competition into a war.

Michaels was draped across the ring apron, with his head hanging toward the floor. Raymond held him in place, while Jacques climbed onto the apron, holding Hart’s megaphone. When Michaels was properly positioned, Jacques jumped from the apron, crashing the object into the Rocker’s neck. To Add to the torture, Raymond took the megaphone and also smashed it into Michaels’ throat.

The Rougeaus insist that the Rockers will never recoup from the incident. “It just shows what amateurs they are,” Jacques said. “No wrestler with any skill would allow himself to be blasted like that–not once, but two times! Now the Rockers want to wrestle us in a full match? Ha, ha, it will be over in 30 seconds.” Strangely, Jannetty predicts a bout of similar length. “I’ve never been so angry in my life. Once I get into the ring with the Rougeaus, I’ll annihilate the two cowards myself. And I won’t take a long time doing it. They’ll be finished before they can say ‘All-American Boys.’”

In all probability, a future confrontation between the two squads will be more lengthy. The Rockers and Rougeaus are evenly matched on paper, and it would be difficult for either duo to score a lightning-fast victory.

The aftershock of the attack on Micheals can go in either team’s favor. Despite bold promises, the Rocker may not be 1000 percent in fighting form, and memories of the episode could cause him to be hesitant in the ring. Even if the Rockers are willing to hold nothing back, their fury may cause them to rush the ring without a solid game plan–a necessity against a team as well-coordinated as the Rougeaus. On the other hand, the incident could serve as motivation for the Rockers to train harder and battle fiercer than ever before, not letting up until the Rougeaus are literally ready to be carted out of the arena.

The team that can work better as a unit will likely come out ahead. Although the Rougeaus claim that, being brothers, their teamwork is impeccable, the Rockers are one squad just as finely tuned. Each pair is known for double shoulder-blocks, double backflips, double drop-kicks and synchronized moves off the ropes. Whichever man becomes separated from his partner long enough may be victimized by these tactics may well be responsible for his team’s loss.

Finally, there's the question of experience. The Rougeaus could have the advantage here, as they’ve been battling in WWF rings longer than have their adversaries. Plus, they recently went up against the Bushwackers, expanding an almost scholarly knowledge of the art of brawling. However the Rockers not long ago fared well against the Brain Busters, a team combining rulebreaking, scientific finesse and psychological tactics. And at WrestleMania V, Michaels and Jannetty unequivocally proved their toughness against the mountainous Twin Towers.

Perhaps it is best to take Jannetty’s advice and not analysis and theory to calculate the outcome of the conflict. “Hey, baby,I’m running on pure emotion and pure energy,” Jannetty said. “And that energy’s going to rock the Rougeaus so bad they’re never going to be able to find their way back to a wrestling ring.”

#magazine transcript #wwf magazine #phew ok what a night lol #the rockers #midnight rockers #shawn michaels #marty jannetty #raymond rougeau #jacques rougeau #jimmy hart #transcribing while tedious.. is very rewarding in the end #im happy i get to put this stuff out on the internet teehee #wwf #world wrestling federation

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breads-bakery · 2 years

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- EUPHORIA

O6 - pilot !!

warnings: afab reader!!, time stamps might be a little jumbled up, description of birth , mental illness implied ,profanities, slice of life , angst, mentions of drugs. if any of these topics make you uncomfortable please do not read!

note : this is not proof read !!! SMALL CHAPTER, You can call it a filler ig :( TIME LINES ARE AND WILL BE JUMBLED UP ON PURPOSE !!! as i said before the series is v inspired by euphoria!! we start on a flashback!!!! MORE WILL BE REVEALED ON UPCOMING CHAPTERS. ps.. sorry for the very late update 😅

y/n’s inner monologues (in italics ) , past conversations ( in bold )

taglist: @sunoobabie @sunooscheeks @leeknow-knows @shiberrysan @kyrkitten , @skzoddinaries , @pjongbb204 ( taglist open for now )

previous || masterlist || next

AUGUST 6TH, 2001

HYBE UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL - MATERNITY WARD - DAYTIME

bright , buzzing specialty lights and various types of hospital fuss filled the labor room.

in the midst; a woman in her mid twenties, giving birth to a fetus, a fetus like any other , as it curls up, bracing itself to be torn away from the comfort of its home.

each contraction felt as if a bowling ball landed full force on the woman’s spine; and then, with the initial force continued throughout, the bowling ball would roll down her spine , like it was crushing it the whole way .

each time she’s squeezed, her body shudders as if shot with a taser gun; over and over and over, until it landed in her pelvic area with double the initial force , until baby y/n finally makes her bone crushing descent through the dark labyrinth of her mother.

baby y/n , barely seconds old, her tiny body covered in amniotic fluid , vernix caseosa and blood. her lungs fill with air, and her eyes finally blink open. she soon begins to wail with terror as she peaked her new surroundings. the shrill and piercing cry filled the room, that had gone silent for a while.

suddenly, a nipple is shoved in her tiny mouth. she sucks, and in an instant her eyes roll back in a drug-like haze.

. . . . . .

DECEMBER 6TH, 2021

Y/N’S BEDROOM - NIGHT TIME

y/n , now 20 years old, sits cross legged in her bed, at the dorm. her hands busy keeping her hair out of her face, as best as she can , as she snorts the crushed klonopin off her black-polished vanity dresser .

she leans back on her chair , taking a deep breath, as the benzo’s take effect .

at some point you make a choice about who you are and what you want.

every mistake, every mis-step, every dumb decision or dumb fuck. just own it and wear it like a fucking honor badge . create your own confidence or whatever.

y/n’s ekes out a druggy smile.

she takes out her phone, inserting her password quickly, before clicking the library app, rapidly scrolling through it. years and years of memories.

from soccer games to birthday parties to her family. sleepovers with best friends and stupid little prank videos . dance routines. a bunch of selfies. makeup. school.

from growing up to drinking excessive amounts of alcohol and restless nights.

the photos become more sexual, more obsessive, more focused on how she looks.

and then she stops on a specific picture, a messy haired teenage boy with his arm slung around her.

i had my first kiss at the age of twelve with my then best friend , park sunghoon . he was my only friend at the time, and i used to trust him wholeheartedly.

well i used to … until he replaced me with his new, better friends, who “weren’t fuck ups” and “bad influences ” - so lee heeseung a good influence haha - I FUCKING HATE LEE HEESEUNG

but don’t feel bad, park sunghoon became a part time alcoholic, part time stoned and a full time fucking asshole

y/n's phone dings several times indicating she received a few notifications, pulling her out off her thoughts .

her eye sight a little blurry as she clicks on the message notification, she blinks several times to try on focusing on the text messages in front of her.

y/n groans lowly, trying to get off her black-polished chair, her legs are a little wobbly. she leans against the wall for a minute, taking a few deep breaths before she opens her bedroom door.

she starts to head down the hallway, trying to find her balance and footing as the drug took effect.

she miraculously ends up to her front door, without stubbing her toes in any corners and opens the door to a freezing chenle. she grins widely at him, as if lost in a trace for a bit.

chenle pushes her aside as carefully as he could, entering the house and closing the front door.

" god it took you ten whole minutes to open the fucking door " he started complaining as he placed the bags he was holding on the ground, so he can take off and hang his coat .

y/n grins once again looking at the paper bags, snatching and running away with them to the kitchen. chenle blinks dramatically and following her.

" you whore those are for the both of us "

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stitchships · 3 years

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I NEVER POSTED THIS ART OF AN RP SCENE BC I HADN'T PUBLICALLY ACCEPTED THAT I WAS ACTUALLY IN LOVE WITH NICKY WHEN I DREW IT ANYWAYS YOU CAN HAVE IT NOW

And I'll post the actual rp screenshot under the cut

#i love nicholas so much SO MUCH #he owns my entire brain except for when im focusing on isaac but 88% of the time its nick #i thought he was dumb for like a while and then suddenly in august my brain just went BAM and i was dead #last night i went to sleep wearing his turtleneck that i bought for 35 dollars and put cologne on #and tonight im wearing the exact outfit from the drawing #good shit #my art #barking #can i see your ankle?#rp screenshots

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

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In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #peter parker imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

Text

I decided to watch the Walker pilot so you don’t have to. #1

I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’m doing this and the more I put it off the less I’ll want to do this. So. Let’s start.

The fist thing we see is Jared Padalecki, em Walker, driving. He’s vaguely smiling and there’s the sun behind him. He seems happy. He’s driving a truck, for some reason my mind goes to Twilight. I’d rather watch that. At least there are vampires (not dressed like clowns) there. Anyway. Walker is meeting someone. He’s meeting his wife! “Look at you!” she says. The camera makes us look at him. He looks like this

I am unsure whether we’re supposed to see this as sexy or cool. It looks frankly ridiculous. I don’t know if I’m just not American enough to appreciate the aesthetic of this. But I didn’t go through 15 seasons of Americana-in-British-Columbia for nothing. If a character appeared like this on Supernatural, it wouldn’t be presented seriously. It would be played for a chuckle or in a light-hearted way at least. Not even Dean Winchester would find this hot.

The Padaleckis tell something to each other. Apparently he needs to go home with the kids and his parents because it’s game night. My mind immediately goes to Game Night the episode and I am sad now. But Walker lifts my mood in its own weird way. He doesn’t know the rules because every time she tells him the rules, he blacks out. I would make a fun quip about this, but the truth is that I relate to him a lot right now because I blacked out during the entire scene. I’m not sure what they said other than the game thing because I wrote it here. I already forgot the rest.

Anyway. What we’re supposed to get from this scene that they’re Very In Love (see that soft warm light?), and that he’s anxious because he’s not great at being a father because he’s shit at games apparently, but his wife is like ~don’t worry so much~ because she’s a kind, understanding wife. He tells her to be safe, because the Texan countryside is dangerous or something. She needs to stay on a route he approved for some reason. Is she traveling with supersoldier serum in her car? Is Hydra going to murder her? [cue the Marvel snipers shooting me to death because they don’t want Marvel to be associated to this]

Later, everyone is having fun playing fake monopoly, but Walker (whose mannerism is just Jared, he’s not even trying) is apparently too stupid to understand a game for kids. Plot twist, this is anti-cop propaganda because it says cops are dumb.

“Et tu Brute” Jared says when the kids point out he broke a rule so they get an extra turn. I thought I was safe from hearing Jared speak Latin! I thought I was safe! I am never safe!

Emily (Gen) suddenly texts him “SOS. Answer” which is OMINOUS! Oh my god! Aren’t you feeling the tension. The rest of the family keeps playing fake monopoly. Someone throws dice. Are we supposed to go “oh! The dice are ~symbolic because someone’s playing dice with her life” or have I been watching too much good tv.

She is running somewhere in the countryside, wearing a white shirt (is this the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown?). She says something is not right. He’s worried. Then he hears gunshot and her scream. He does the Alarmed Jared face, presses lips together and does a Upset Jared face.

Then he goes out, tries to call her again, and again, does a Jared Upset Sniff--

Oh! We actually see her! She’s alive, but she’s been shot in the stomach. Her white shirt is definitely the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown! Ah the blood coming from the stomach! How terrible! Her phone is ringing but she cannot reach it. She is definitely alive right now, though. She’s breathing heavily because of the wound, which is breathing, which is the opposite of being dead.

He decides that she’s dead, and lets out the already infamous manly scream of anguish.

It would be sad if it wasn’t that literally one second ago we saw her wounded but alive. Her turning out alive in the season finale or so will shock everyone. Nobody will have seen it coming. Who wrote this? They should have just shown the ringing phone and her bloody hand/side, making the audience assume she was dead, instead of showing her breathing. Now the audience is gonna assume she didn’t actually die, and wonder “why didn’t he call someone or went looking for her” but apparently Jared’s characters have forgotten that, like, ambulances are a thing. Jared’s manly screams of anguish are more important than common sense.

I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m n

We’re just 4 minutes in, guys. Why am I doing this?

Eleven months later, says the screen.

It’s night, outside a house. The son is waiting for him. The daughter doesn’t think he’s coming. On the porch there are two men, one is his brother and one is apparently his former partner, now new boss. He’s dressed like you’d expect a normal person to be dressed in a casual Texan night, hat and tie and all. If you are law enforcement in Texas and don’t wear a cowboy hat at any moment, you will be executed. That’s what the death penalty in Texas is for.

Somebody arrives, but to the kids’ disappointment is some dude whose function is to tell us the men’s names. The brother is Liam, the cop dude I forgot.

Walker is being sad on the back of his truck and drinking alcohol, which is the only way television can express a man having trauma. Holy shit - he reminisces of his wife like this is some emotional Lord of the Rings scene in a place where Elves live except this is not the Lord of the Rings and is just ridiculous, look

She’s seen running towards the gazebo, then she turns

This is exactly shot like the scene where Arwen has a vision of her son. Flowy hair and all. I cannot take this seriously.

He smiles sadly. Then a cop car arrives.

Mexican Lady Cop(TM), whose function in the story is to be a Mexican Lady Cop(TM) asks for his licence since he’s drinking alcohol in a public place.

“You ask so nicely” drunk Walker says. Ew. “Yeah, they train the girls special” Oh! Can you see? She is the Feminist Icon who Takes No Shit from the Dude! I’m so excited. I am slowly losing the will to live.

She drives him home on the police car. His legs don’t fit. At least this is realistic.

He does exposition in the car, including “I needed to visit a ghost instead”. There-there was no need to say it. What’s the demographic they’re aiming for? Five year olds? Do they have to spell everything out loud?

“It’s been a while since I had an actual conversation” he says, which supposedly explains why he’s making awkward exposition, but it’s just bad writing. At least they acknowledge it’s bad writing.

She figures he’s law enforcement coming back from an undercover mission from some drunken ramble he makes. This is worse than the Sherlock phone cable port thing.

She says she just got promoted from state trooper, ehe she will work with him wink wink nudge nudge. Is she going to be a cop-buddy-character slash love interest except when they’re almost about to realize they’re into each other, his wife comes back and draa~ama? I can already see it.

He goes home, makes some Jared grunts, and falls asleep on the couch.

Next morning, he goes out and jogs to where he left the truck. He puts on a cowboy hat which is supposed to be an artistic shot.

I’m slowly dying. He makes some Jared Deep Breaths, at least this made me laugh.

Wait, he’s now wearing a black hat. He’s in mourning, see? What.

He drives to his father’s ranch. His father is Super Not Impressed. It’s awkward. They took about horses. Mitch Pileggi is thinking that at least the other show was more exciting and there was Jensen Ackles in it.

He gets into his parents’ house and the dogs run to him, he does the Jared Dog Chuckle. He hugs his mom. He hugs his son - “August, my boy!” he says, like a normal person his age says.

He hugs his brother and they joke-wrestle and he says “I’m still the big brother” and did I mention I’m dying inside. I just can tell this is SUPPOSED to be reminiscent of Dean and Sam’s first meeting at Stanford in the pilot except Jared is the big brother now. Ew.

We learn that the brother is a DA and gay. All pilots suffer from Forced Exposition Syndrome but it’s like this isn’t even trying.

He goes to work and hugs (very manly hug of course) his friend-now-boss, who is called James. James asks him if he’s good and he’s like yeah I’m good, which our I’m Fine Lie Moment #1. Some things never change.

Enter the case of the week - a cop offered roadside assistance but he was assaulted. We’re already starting with a “Oh No Poor Cop :( Someone Doesn’t Like Cops And Gets Violent” plot. Yay.

Ta-da! Mexican Lady Cop appears, cowboy hat and all. James says she’s Walker’s new partner. My heart cries while Walker says “figured you’d be a guy” and she replies “so did my mom”. The feminism is so strong :’) She’s such a strong female character :’) I’m so happy :’)

Then Walker makes such a quintessential Jared thing with his mouth that I need to stop this here and take a break.

It’s been 13 minutes. So much still to go. I’m bored. Why am I doing this.

#cw's jared: legit texan #marghe watches walker for some darned reason

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

Text

Hanahaki disease - read on ao3

Tagging: @lokitonypeter @just-things-things @thegreenmetblue @someonepostedart @andacheesyoneliner @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu

*-*

Peter's known for a long time that he was in love with Tony. Since he was seven, and Ironman saved his life. Since he came home to Tony Stark on his couch, talking with his aunt.

Since the trip to Germany, and everything else leading up to now. The more time he spent with the older man, the more in love with him he became.

Peter never really thought he'd be the one to get sick. He thought he'd been immune. He's had crushes before, been in unrequited love before, and he never got sick.

But with Tony, it came on so suddenly. One day he was fine, and then the next, blue petals were in his sink after a coughing fit.

He'd been so shocked he'd stumbled back and almost hit his head on the bathroom door.

That was six months ago, and its not gotten better. He's been lucky enough to hide it from everyone.

With May's long hours at the hospital and his school's wacky scheduling, and the Avengers keeping Peter on the outskirts, its easy to hide the blue flowers.

He's read stories about people with the disease getting better on their own, or even learning to live with it for the rest of their lives.

He's also read about it killing people.

But he can't tell Tony how he feels. He just can't. Tony thinks of Peter as a kid. Plus, while the age difference doesn't bother Peter at all, it might bother Tony.

The man was old enough to be his dad anyway. So Peter decided to hide the flower petals. For as long as he could.

"Hey, Pete, you getting the popcorn or what?" Clint calls from the living room. Peter coughs again, hunched over the trashcan beside the kitchen island.

"Yeah!" He shouts, coughing again. He reaches into his mouth, picking the petals off his tongue before straightening. He glances down at the trash, covered in wet, wilty petals and feels his stomach roll.

He quickly grabs a bunch of paper towel, throwing them into the trash to cover them, then pushing it all down as far as it'd go.

After a second, he grabs the two bowls of popcorn and makes his way back into the living room.

"Sorry, I had to melt the butter," he excused, handing one bowl off to Clint -who would be sharing with Nat, Bruce and Steve.

Peter handed the other bowl off to Sam, who was in reach of Tony, Thor, Bucky and Peter.

"What are we watching again?" Peter asked, clearing his throat. It was always worse when Peter was around Tony.

"Halloween," Sam said, smirking over at Peter.

"Its August," Peter exclaims.

"Yeah, and we were going to watch A Walk To Remember but Tony doesn't do chick flicks, and the grandparents haven't seen it yet."

"Hey, Tony hasnt seen it either," Steve yelped, waving a hand at Tony, sitting at the corner of the couch, beside Sam.

Peter tried not to think about how close they'd be if Sam and him just switched places.

"That's because Halloween is a terrible series."

"It not!" Peter can't help interjecting. "Its right up there with Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th."

"How do you even know what those movies are?" Clint asks, laughing on the other couch.

"I watch old movies," Peter shrugged, feeling the familiar sense of self-consciousness creep into his chest, tickling at his lungs.

"Old!" Tony barked. "Kid, the 80s aren't old."

Peter forces himself to laugh and shrug and make a joke about hanging out with people twice his age, and the conversation moves on.

But it just reminds Peter that Tony would never see him as an equal because of his age. There was no way he'd ever accept that Peter loved him. Or would love him back.

The movie plays, and Peter chews handfuls of popcorn to keep from coughing up a lung.

Bucky and Steve are on the edge of their seats, fully invested in the corny horror film when Tony starts coughing.

Everyone glances over in concern, but the man just waves his hand, mouth pressed into his elbow.

"Pop-corn-" he chokes out between coughs.

"You're supposed to chew it," Nat laughs. Peter tries not to outwardly show how worried he is when Tony's face grows red, the coughing so bad he has to get up and make his way to his bedroom down the hallway.

Everyone returns to watching the movie, but Peter can't help but wonder if Tony's okay, especially when he doesn't come back right away.

"Uh, I gotta take a leak," Peter lies, climbing to his feet.

"Thanks for sharing, little man," Sam huffed. Peter doesn't say anything else,just makes his way down the hallway.

Tony's bedroom is all the way at the end. The only people who live in the penthouse with him are Steve and Bucky, and Wanda and Vision -though they're out on a date for the night.

He passes the bathroom door, and his frown deepens when he hears Tony hacking in his bedroom.

He keeps light on his toes, reaching the bedroom door that's not all the way closed, and pushes it open just a little.

"Ton-" the sight before him cuts him off, and he ducks back a little, worried maybe the older man might've seen him.

He feels his chest tighten at the sight. Tony, leaned over with a bedside trash can between his knees, coughing up little pink flowers.

Peter's eyes widen when the man spits a glob of blood into the basket before continuing to cough.

Tears burn at Peter's eyes and he quickly backs up, rushing down the hallway and past the living room.

"Hey, where you going? Where's the fire?"

"I-I gotta go home aunt May- uh, I gotta go she wants me home," Peter shouts, snatching up his keys and phone on the way out.

He's in the elevator, and he can't stop the sobs from tightening his throat.

Tony's sick. Tony's in love with someone who doesn't love him back. Tony's in love with someone and its not Peter.

Be chokes on tears and petals all the way to the main floor, shoves the petals into his pocket and runs from the building.

He knew his love was unrequited. He knew there was no chance, but to see Tony so in love with someone else -it was like digging a knife into his heart and twisting.

He makes it to his bedroom and buries his face into his pillow, muffling his crying so May won't hear when she gets home. Hopefully she'll think hes still at the tower and won't check on him until the morning.

He cries himself to sleep, eyes gritty and heavy.

*-*

"Hey, kid, how's patrolling going?"

Peter jolts at the sudden sound of Tony's voice in his ear, momentarily forgetting he has a connection to the tower now. New upgrades.

"Uh, good," Peter huffed, swinging from building to building. "Stopped a mugging, and helped a couple people with the parking meters."

Tony chuckles over the coms. "You gotta stop showing people the coin on tape trick."

Peter can't help but smile through his mask. He clears his throat when he feels the familiar tickle at the back of his throat.

"Fuck capitalism, Mr. Stark," he says.

"You do know capitolism is kind of my job?"

"Its not," Peter countered. "I mean, it relied heavily on it in the beginning -what with the weapons and war profiteering- but you've come a long way! Sustainable energy and you're even recycling!"

Tony chuckles again, and Peter has a moment to regret his words -Tomy probably thinks he's just a dumb kid- before a coughing fit hits him out of nowhere.

It's so bad, Peter loses his momentum and drops onto a rough of a small cafe. Hes on his hands and knees, crawling from the edge of the roof as he coughs and hacks.

"Pete, you okay? What's wrong?" Comes Tony's worried voice.

Peter feels the petals coating his mouth with nowhere to go and frantically tugs on his mask. He's choking, suffocating.

He rips the mask off and heaves a mess of petals and blood onto the gravel roof.

Its never been this bad. Panic grips his chest when he coughs and wretches more than he can get a breath in. He's suffocating.

Tears burn his eyes as he struck less desperately to take a breath. Just one breath.

His head begins to spin, chest heaving and he drops from his knees to his hips, legs curled off to the side as he holds himself up with shaky arms.

There's so much blood and petals, Peter doesn't know where its all coming from.

He's too busy dying to notice the suit of armor that drops onto the roof, or that Tony's suddenly rushing towards him.

"Jesus, kid!" He breathed.

Peter lets out a sob, blood and petals continuing to fall from his mouth. His stomach hurts from the heaving, his chest from lack of oxygen.

Tony grabs him by the arms, pulling him forward until he's away from the pile of bile, blood and blue wilting flowers, nearly cradling him in his arms.

"Its alright, you're okay, you're gonna be okay," Tony repeated, rocking Peter while he continued to cough and sob.

He shakes his head, even as exhaustion and lack of air flow has his eyelids drooping, body settling further into Tony's hold.

When he wakes up again, he's in a hospital bed. Theres an iv in the back of his hand, and a tube running down his throat from his nose.

He swallows around it and has to fight back panic at the strange feeling.

There's a heart monitor on his index finger, and a few on his chest -which is bare.

Peter moves shaky hands to the blanket and pulls it up just enough to see. Someone had taken his suit off, leaving him in his red boxers.

He blushes at that. Who had taken his suit off? Damn, he hoped it wasn't Clint or Sam.

He drops the blanket just as the door opens. He looks up to see Tony step inside and he wants the bed to swallow him whole.

"Hey, kid," he greeted, shutting the door behind him and making his way towards Peter's bed. "You had us all pretty worried."

Peter drops his eyes to the itchy white hospital sheet, picking at a loose thread and not saying anything. What was there to say?

Tony sighs as he settles down into the chair beside the bed.

"Your aunt May is in the middle of a shift, but she'll be stopping by when she's got a break to check up on you."

"Okay," Peter barely manages to murmur.

"The doctors had to pump your lungs," Tony continued. "But its not a cure, Pete. They'll come back."

Tears burn at his eyes and he quickly brushes them away, sniffling as he does so.

"I know," he said. "Its alright, I'm okay."

"Peter," Tony sighs, grabbing Peter's hand. He looks up then, seeing the concern in the older man's eyes. "You're not okay, you're really sick."

"People live with it all the time," Peter brushed off.

"Who is it?"

"What?" Peter asked, heart monitor matching his fast pulse.

"Who is it? How long have you been like this?"

and it must be because Peter is tired -exhausted and drained and so sick of being sick- because fresh tears bloom and he pulls his hand from Tony's.

"Long time," is all he can say as he presses his palms into his eyes, rubbing at the tears.

"Who," Tony presses.

Fuck it, Peter thinks. He's already dying, he's already humiliated. Why not just confess?

"You," he says, pulling his hands from his face. "I've-I've been in love with you for- for years."

He can't handle the shocked look that filters through Tony's features, so he looks down at the iv in his hand, lower lip trembling.

"And I know you don't think of me that way," he continues. "I know, so its okay, I'm fine, I'll get over it or, or get the surgery or something-"

"Peter," Tony interrupts, moving from the chair to the side of the bed. He grabs both sides of Peter's jaw, forcing him to look up at Tony. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," he says on a wet breath. "Because you've always thought of me as a kid. You- I'm still just a kid to you, and thats okay, Mr. Stark, I'm-"

Tony's eyebrows furrow as Peter has to stop talking. He's getting to the point where he's babbling, not understandable.

"I don't think of you as a kid," Tony says.

"Yes, you do," Peter huffed, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down. "You do, and thats okay, I promise, I've live this long with it, I'm okay."

"Has it always been that bad?"

Peter shakes his head.

"What made it worse?"

Peter's showing his hand already, he might as well expose the card up his sleeve too.

"I saw you," he murmured. "During the movie. You're sick too. I didn't mean to, I was just- checking to make sure you were okay but-"

"Peter, sweetheart," Tony interrupted, and Peter looked up at him, realizing suddenly the man's eyes are watering a little.

"I'm sick because of you."

Peter feels like someone punched the air from his lungs, and he blinks up at Tony, eyebrows drawing close as he tries to process what Tony's said.

"What?" He asks feebly. A small smile pulls at the corner of Tony's mouth and he leans forward, kissing Peter softly on the mouth.

It's a simple kiss, but it sucks the air from Peter's lungs.

"We're really bad at communicating, kid," Tony chuckled wetly, their noses brushing. Peter can't help but sniffle a laugh as well, his hands moving to grip the front of Tony's shirt.

"M'not a kid," he mumbles, pressing his forehead against Tony's. The older's hands are still cradling his face, thumbs brushing against his wet cheeks.

"No, you're not," Tony agreed.

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #ironman #spiderman #starker #ao3 #my writing #sfsummerbingo21

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warmau · 4 years

Text

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au jaemin i am once again late for his birthday but, happy birthday prince na! find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark

there’s a bright pink post-it note on your mailbox on the first day of summer. it says there’s a letter inside

you don’t understand who put it there and why

and of course there’s a letter inside, it’s your mailbox - what else should there be?

you open the letter as you’re sitting criss-cross on the edge of the lake, right in the patch of grass that’s tall enough to hide your figure when you lay down

it’s short and it isn’t signed by anyone

it just asks you to meet ‘him’ at the movie theater in town next week for the eight pm showing of some b-rate comedy film

you pop one of the strawberries you brought with you in your mouth as you try and figure out who ‘he’ is

he must know you somehow, if he doesn’t - that’s just creepy

you look at the handwriting

it’s neat, so you roll over on your stomach and make a little list to yourself

renjun? no, he’s spending this summer in paris

haechan? no, he’d never write a letter and not put his name on it

jeno? no, he’d never write a letter in the first place

jaemin? your hand hovers over the next strawberry and you rest your cheek against your palm

na jaemin? why would na jaemin ask you out to a movie date?

you only know each other through mutual friends

you’ve hung out with him once or twice

each time, barely sharing two or more words due to his popularity with just about everyone else in the room

and the fact that you weren’t much of a talker

and he wasn’t much of a listener

you shake your head, no - it’s definitely not na jaemin either.

when the day of the movie comes around, you pace around your room wondering if you should go or not

a part of your mind, logical and sound says of course not. this isn’t the 1940s who is writing letters to ask people on dates that is normal

why can’t they just send you a facebook message or a text

but the other part of your mind, curious says you have to - at least to see who this secret admirer is

you decide, at 7:45pm to throw caution to the wind - it is summer, and the movie theater will be crowded, if you need to make your escape you’ll be able to

there’s nothing to lose

you get there five minutes late and look around for anyone familiar, anyone at all

when you feel someone tap your shoulder

you turn and blink

“jaemin?”

“you got my letter!”

the movie isn’t good, you aren’t paying attention during most of it, just eating the popcorn jaemin bought and pretending you’re not sneaking peeks at him every five minutes mulling over the same thought

why did he ask me to go to the movies? does he want to be my friend? is this a date?

he turns, when the credits roll, and ask if you have to be home by a certain time

you shake your head, so he asks if you’ll come with him to the lake

you walk through the grassy patch where you’d read that letter he sent - there are some teenagers out and about, a family bbq somewhere nearby

so you two stroll till you’re at the edge of the quietest part of the lake and jaemin pulls something from his back pocket that he hands to you

it’s another letter

you start to open it and he makes a sound

in the dark summer night you don’t see his face go red

“don’t read it now-”

“why not? i want to.”

you state bluntly, pulling the folded paper from the envelope and fishing your phone out to use the flashlight

as you start to mouth the words outloud

jaemin shakes his head, turns and runs straight toward the lake

“jaemin!?”

you chase after him, stopping short of the water as he wades in till he’s hip deep

“jaemin?!?”

“it’s embarrassing, i said don’t read it now!”

“fine, fine i won’t - come out of the water!”

you and him walk down the road, his jeans sopping wet and a big smile on his face as you roll your eyes

“that was a dumb thing to do.”

“you were going to read my own letter out loud to me, what did you think i would do?”

you stop a street down from your house and suddenly, even with his wet jeans and that dumb grin on his face

you can’t help but be honest with yourself about jaemin - he’s handsome and he’s sweet

and this wasn’t weird at all

which makes it weird...........if that makes sense

“can i read it now?”

you ask and wave the letter with one hand, he says ok - in three seconds

when you want to ask what happens in three seconds, he’s already running down the block and away from you counting, 3, 2, 1 -

you sit on your bed, open the letter and read it outloud

i like you, i hope you’ll spend this summer with me. if you don’t believe that i like you, i can prove it. remember right after the fifth football game of the season, in haechan’s dorm, when he was tipsy and we had to hid when the ra came to check on us? you hide with me, under the bed. it was maybe two minutes. just us, alone, listening to haechan lie, trying not to laugh. you smelled like honey and strawberries. i wanted to kiss you under that bed, but i was scared you’d slap me and the ra would catch us. i mean actually that might not prove anything to you. but i like you. if you have nothing else to do, do you want to spend this summer with me?

you set the letter down and get up to grab your phone

you want to text jeno for jaemin’s number but you stop yourself

instead, the next morning you show up on your bike in front of his house

he’s in the yard doing some kind of chore and when he sees you he almost trips over the hose in his hand as he runs over

he’s going to say something, but you drop a letter in his hands and ride off before he can make a sound

when jaemin opens it

all it reads is

yes, i want to spend this summer with you.

and you do spend everyday of it together. sitting at the lake, trying to fish or listening to music or just watching the clouds go by

jaemin can talk for hours and usually chatty people rub you the wrong way, but his voice can almost lull you to sleep

and when it does, he pulls you into his chest and runs his fingers through your hair even though when you wake up he pretends he’s just counting passing butterflies

you visit him at his part-time job at the main street florist, where he does a lot of bouquet wrapping and flower decorating

he brings some of the unused flowers over to your room and teaches you how to weave them together or press them between the pages of your books

you see more shitty movies, you ride your bikes together, you ignore the jealous glares at the mall from other people who wish they were dating jaemin

and jaemin distracts you with silly jokes and general goofiness that you wouldn’t expect from someone so handsome

the first time he tries to kiss you, in your backyard while your parents are away

you mumble for him to stop because you’ve never done it before and he smiles and says ok

if you want him to stop, he’ll stop. he’ll wait forever if he has to.

you shake your head and explain no, it’s not that you want him to wait forever it’s that you don’t want him to be disappointed when you kiss back and sparks don’t fly or whatever it is that happens in love stories

he laughs, he says

don’t worry, the sparks fly for me when you’re just standing next to me. im sure kissing you will feel like the whole parade.

the line is corny and you push him a little, only to curl your hands around the fabric of his shirt and pull him in

his lips are soft and he mumbles again, that you smell and taste like strawberries

as the summer dwindles down you start to panic a little, because his letter had said

do you want to spend your summer with me

but now that it’s ending you are scared to ask if this will continue - or if jaemin will act like it never happened

on the last day of august, you are walking hand in hand with him from the mall and you stop and look up and jaemin waits

“are you going to leave me when fall comes?”

his smile falls a bit and his features grow serious

“no, are you going to leave me?”

“your letter just said you wanted me to spend this summer with you-”

“i meant this summer, the next, and the next, and the next - every summer. from now until forever.”

you try to hide your smile and you try again to tell him to stop being so romantic

but this time, you are the one who brought it up

you lean up and press your lips to his and jaemin whispers

“i mean it - forever.”

now, so many summers after that one - you come home and there’s a pink post it note on your mailbox

just like there is every first day of summer for the last decade

you open it and there’s a letter inside

meet me at the movies at 8pm?

you tuck the letter into your bag and trot up the stairs to your apartment, the doors open and you push through

jaemin is sitting at the tv and waves without looking when he hears the sound of the lock

you sit down beside him, his arm coming around you

“so what movie are we gonna see this year?”

“oh you know the usual, some bad comedy - but hey.”

he turns to you with the same gleaming smile he’s had since he was a young boy

“the popcorns on me.”

#jaemin scenarios #jaemin au #nct scenarios #nct au #nct dream scenarios #nct dream au #sfw #na jaemin #nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream imagines

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lildevyl · 3 years

Text

DSMP FanFic Recommendations I

So, a few days @nastiiuu did a nice Recommendation of a DSMP FanFic called Evermore. So, per request, here's a list of different DSMP Recommendations that I have from my History, Mark For Later, and from my Bookmarks! Sorry, @nastiiuu that it took me a while to get this up! But I hope you all enjoy!

Stay safe and I will put the Summaries and Tigger Warnings in as well!

So, I will start off with the one the @nastiiuu recommended a few days ago!

Evermore

Summary: Prince Theseus, a child of blonde and blue, a child of isolation and a crave for touch. He's the youngest in the Royal Family, and somehow the most forgotten. The most neglected. The most alone.

Tucked away in his tower, the young prince watches the world move on without him, watches his family welcome two new princes into their arms, and yet reject him when he cries desperately from nightmares or shivers from a painful wound.

"Wilby?" The child had murmured, all curious and hesitant at once. He was tucked in his older brother's lap, watching as his other sibling sparred with their father. "We'll always be together, right? Forever and ever?"

Wilbur smiled. "Of course, Tommy. Forever and ever."

The Hanahaki rising in young Theseus' throat says otherwise.

TW: Isolation, Hanahki Disease, Angst no happy ending, Character Death, Villain!Dream, Manuplation.

The Exchange: My Life for Yours: I'm still reading this one, I'm on chapter 17 and it's ssssssssooooooooo good right now!

Summary: Tommy was a liability. Too annoying and too loud.

Techno didn't care about this child.

"Unless of course, you want call on that favor"

"Ok"

Then why he suddenly did?

TW: Villain!Dream, Canon Diverse, Kidnapping, Demons/Dreamons, Demon!Dream, Dreamon!Dream, Isolation, Manipulation, "A Deal with the Devil."

The Inevitability of Change: I just got caught up with this one and oh my Ghoul! This is intense and so good! I can't wait for the update!

Summary: Fuck it, he was allowed to do this, it would be better for everyone else anyway. They could do whatever they wanted and he wouldn’t be in their way. He wouldn’t cause problems anymore and he could have the perfect life that he had always wanted.

The egg extended a blood vine out to him. "Do we have a deal?" There was a level of smugness that Tommy recognized all too well from all his wars with Dream, it was the sound of an opponent knowing they’d won.

“We do, you dumb ugly bitch.”

Tommyinnit hated change. He'd witnessed so many people he cared about in his life change and hardly ever for the better. He just wished things could go back to the way they were when he had everything he ever wanted, a loving family who cared about him, a best friend who was always by his side. He craves this so badly that he makes a deal with the egg to get everything he's ever wanted.

or or

Tommy becomes a coraline kinnie

TW: Derealization, Unreality, Manipulation, Child Abandonment, Violence (later chapters), Explosions (later chapters).

Ties of the Puppet

Summary: Tommy hates how his mind feels trapped at that moment with Tubbo. The look in his eyes one Tommy had been forced to see far too many times. Wilbur’s eyes.

Tommy struggles with the trauma of his life and unhealthy relationships, Wilbur tries his hand at redemption, Phil and Techno learn to heal what's been lost.

TW: Mental Health Issues, Violence, Abuse, Redemption Arc for Tubbo, Healing for Tommy/Phil/Techno, some of the characters will seem a little OOC, Canon Diverse.

Forged By Truth (Or the Lack there of)

Summary: After his escape from exile failed spectacularly, Tommy only needed to be reminded that Dream saved his life a few times before it starts to sink in. Once his exile can continue again far away from any more distractions, Dream proceeds with his plan to craft the perfect weapon.

TW: Manipulation, Mention of Character Death (Character doesn't really die but the other characters don't know that), Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Protégé AU, Tommy becomes Dream's Protégé, Angst, Whump.

Mask: I'm still working on this one but it's really, really, really good! A lot of Angst and Manipulation. So, please be careful when reading!

Summary: Dream knew Tommy was a naturally clingy child. That's why he found such satisfaction in having him exiled.

Dream didn't plan on Tommy clinging to him.

Dream was going to take advantage of the situation.

All Tommy needed was a bit of a push and then he would be completely broken.

Ready to be remodeled into the perfect weapon.

TW: Suicidal Thoughts, Attempted Suicide, Manipulation, Emotional and Mental Manipulation, Protégé AU, Broken!Tommy, Angst, Angst (possibly no happy ending but I'm not sure), Whump.

Lion's Cup, Tiger Stripes: I just finished this one and it's so good! Exile Arc but with a twist! Guest Appearances by Sad-ist, Late-August, Derivakat.

Summary: Tommy Innit knew what Dream was doing and was sure as hell not going through with it. So, by the third week of exile, as Dream starts to escalate his punishments, he leaves. One month later he runs into Purpled and hires him as a bodyguard while he travels.

Or Tommy runs away, stays in one village for a month to clear his head and decides to go travelling while dragging Purpled with him.

Or road trip pog.

TW: Angst, Angst with a happy, Found Family, Violence, Testing, Scares, Explosions (later chapters), I think that's all.

Valley of Serenity: This is a very long fic! It's about 60+ chapters so feel free to read in increments but this is a really good fic! Redemption Arc and Healing for the SBI Family!

Summary: After blowing up a nation, Wilbur throws a sword down at his father's feet and begs to be killed.

Phil, however, takes one look at the state of his children and decides he has other plans.

(post november 16th au where wilbur doesn't die. instead a family leaves the smp entirely, and learn how to live with each other again.)

"Fuck, I - I can't forgive either of you right now," Tommy says quietly. Despite the words, he hugs Wilbur tighter. "One day, though. I think one day I will."

"And we're still brothers, right?" Wilbur dares ask. Techno inhales sharply beside him.

They get a choked laugh in reply.

"Yeah. Brothers."

TW: Angst, Mention of wanting to die, Healing, a long road of healing, Mental Health Issues, Family Bonds, Angst but I think there is a happy ending, Violence, Mention of the L'Manburg exploding. Redemption Arc, Healing.

Breathing's Just A Rhythm: I finished this fic a few weeks ago and my ghoul! This is so good! Time Travel Fic with Dream, Schlatt, Tubbo, Tommy, and of course CHAT!

Summary: POGTOPIA??? WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?? TIMETRAVELBLADE. technotravel

“Chat, I did not time travel,” Techno said exhaustedly, “I don’t know what gave you that idea, but please calm yourselves.”

The voices started obnoxiously whispering at the top of their lungs. HE DOESN’T KNOW. PANIC

Or: Tommy, Tubbo, Jschlatt, and Dream all end up in the past. (Oh, and the Chat comes too) (mcd is a villain, this fic has a happy ending)

Or OR! Dream attempts to Time Travel in the past but winds only go back a few months ago during Pogtopia Area and he winds up bring a few unexpected victors with him! MEANWHILE: Karl is trying his damnest to fix everything with Time Travel Fiasco that Dream caused! B/C the Future selves and the past selves switched!

TW: Graphic Violence, Bodily harm (later chapters), Kidnapping (later chapters), Explosions (later chapters), Betrayal (later chapters I won't say who!), Isolation, Manipulations, Mental and Emotional Abuse, Trauma, Therapy (Finally these boys gets some), Good!Schlatt, Villain!Dream, Redemption Arc Wilbur and Schlatt.

I think I got them all?

Wrong Place for Redemption: This one of the stories that helped inspired Breathing is Just a Rhythm! Time Travel Fic!

Summary: -Previously titled Time Will Decide. Name taken from lyrics in 'A Sadness Runs Through Him' by The Hosiers

“Okay, why don’t you go see him.” Tommy didn’t know what he thought the afterlife was going to be like, hell he didn’t even know if it was a real thing. Maybe he’d see Wilbur, possibly Schlatt, but he didn’t expect to see a white castle and Karl.

Or where Tommy looses his final life to Dream in the prison only to be teleported back in time.

OR where Tommy is given a second chance and isn't going to blow it, not even if things start to get revealed (things that change everything) and discoveries are made.

This whole book has TW's: Child abuse, violence/murder, gore/blood, implied/referenced suicide, suicide, drinking, etc.

Parental Rights: Another good on going fic for me! Can you tell that I love some SBI/Found Family Fics here?

Summary: Sam wants to be there for Tommy. Wants to be his dad. Wants to be the one Tommy comes to when he's in trouble or excited over something. He'd happily legally adopt Tommy, but well... Tommy's actual father is in the way of that. Sam thought with how distanced Phil was with his son it would be easy to persuade him to give his parental rights over to Sam. But well... Tommy's stubbornness had to come from somewhere, right?

TW: Sleep Walking, Mentions of Exile, Healing Arc for Tommy, Healing Arc for Sam, Healing Arc for Tubbo, SBI, Healing Arc for Techno.

Allium: This is still on going, but oh man! This is getting really good!

Summary: What if Dreams plan for the Disc War finale had worked?

Tubbo dead, Tommy in the prison, SMP under his control. Allium Ashes.

TW: Major Character Death, Ghostbo (Ghost Tubbo), Manipulation, Isolation, Imprisonment, Prisoner Innit, Making someone believe they are responsible for something they didn't do, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission.

And How Can I Compete (With The World At Your Feet): God AU and this is really Fangtastic! Rated M for Graphic Violence and Attempted Sacrifice.

Summary: Tommy has been kept away from the world and held captive for four years, and now he’s about to be used as a sacrifice to a god. A blood god, to be specific. The Blood God. But, instead of accepting his captor’s sacrifice, the Blood God is in debt to Tommy. And he’s going to save him.

A universe where Technoblade, Wilbur, and Phil are all gods who have become quite protective of a mortal fifteen year old without a home.

This concept was based on a text post I saw, I think! I can’t find it anymore, but if you see it let me know!

TW: Blood, Violence, Attempted Sacrifice, Villain!Dream, Villain!BadBoyHalo, Occult Setting, God AU, Blood God!Techno, Angel of Death!Philza, God!Wilbur, Angel!Tubbo, Angel!Ranboo.

Death's Forest: This is a nice little One-Shot for the SBI, and Dadza fans! Set during Tommy's Exile. Don't worry! Dadza to the rescue!

Summary: “Can I see him?” Phil asks, blinking owlishly, as if he’s simply just asking. As if he’s not holding a threat behind those light words.

“Don’t push your limits.” Dream responds, and Phil only smiles with a slow nod.

The next day, Dream wishes he had answered differently.

Phil isn’t quite human. He wants to visit Tommy during exile.

TW: I don't think there's any TW here, but if there is, please let me know!

Prince Theseus: Royal AU! Hybrid Tommy. Prince Tommy (Theseus).

Summary: Prince Theseus Craft of the Anartitic Empire, A child who could bring joy to anyone's day left to be forgotten by his family left to spend his days in his tower with nothing but his Maid and dear friend as company

Left to watch his older brothers laugh and smile as his father looks at them with love and the eyes of a proud parent he never saw directed to him, watch them both receive the love he craved so desperately from his father. Left him to envy his brothers yet grow jealous as that jealousy turns to a small flame of hatred growing steadily as time passes leaving him to make his final decision.

No longer will he be known as Theseus but as the Amazing Tommyinnit who could do anything who will prove his former family wrong and show he is better than what they think.

Which leads him to where he is now, a runaway prince who finds a new family brought together by hardship and their love of traveling the endless seas.

AKA :

16 yr old Prince Theseus changes his name to Tommyinnit and runs away from his royal family who neglected him and finds a real family on a ship who just so happened to be pirates as well.

TW: Isolation, Mention of a Minor Character Death, Running Away, Royal AU, Hybrid Tommy, SBI, Neglect, Pirates, Found Family, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Magic.

Therapy Marriage: Okay, I'm adding this one for some Wholesomeness, and Fluff with some Angst but there should be a Happy Ending!

Summary: but for some reason, tubbo (and possibly ranboo, although he doubted this was his idea) had got it into his head that tommy needed therapy or some shit.

which, fine, maybe he had a little bit of an issue. he did freak out at damage, and weapons, and he had reached out to puffy, but he was okay! he didn’t need tubbo to pity him.

but- here was where the weird part came in- tubbo wanted tommy in his marriage.

TL:DR Tubbo wants to help Tommy and decides that the best method is by marrying him as well. Ranboo just goes along with it.

*****

Okay, this post has gotten very long! I do apologize for that! So, I'll add others to another Post!

#nastiiuu #fanfic recommenation #dsmp #dream smp fanfiction #dreams smp fanfic #ao3 #dsmp fanfic recommendations #long post

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imomomi · 4 years

Photo

Word Count: 4,007

Warnings: Spoilers for the Nationals Arc

April 2012

It was Osamu who convinced her to become their manager. A whole year of begging and bringing her food, had softened her and now Y/N found herself sheepishly leaving her classroom with Osamu and Atsumu gripping each shoulder. Afraid that she would run away, they’d come to escort her to Gym B where the rest of the volleyball team was waiting in anticipation of their new manager. Personally, she wanted to beat the twins over the head with her bag, but every time she’d fought with them Aran somehow found out and would yell at them for hours.

“You know if you two were nicer, maybe there’d be more girls interested in doing this,” muttered Y/N. The urge to dig her feet into the ground and refuse to move grew stronger the closer they got. Atsumu and Osamu shared a grin over her shoulders.

Atsumu ducked and grabbed her knees while Osamu wrapped an arm around her torso holding her up. Y/N shrieked and kicked at the laughing blonde. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, only to be caught by Osamu who nearly dropped her while catching it. A bright burst of anger filled her beat only by the sudden urge to laugh as they hurried past their perplexed schoolmates.

“I’m wearing a skirt, you idiot. Let go,” she shouted, pulling the hem down as far as it would go. Atsumu swung her legs wildly, laughing again as she screamed.

“Nah-uh, Y/N-chan, you’ll run away,” grinned Atsumu widely.

“I’ll kill you both.”

“Big words for someone at our mercy,” said Osamu, jerking his arms to the side.

“What are you two doing,” Aran asked in horror as they arrived. Y/N hung limply between the two brothers only to be dropped as the twins straightened up. Groaning, she rolled over, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks.

“L/N, you alright?”

“Just kill me now,” said Y/N burying her face into her hands. The team shared matching grins, but dropped them as a boy with silver hair, the ends dipped in black, quietly asked them to move.

“You two shouldn’t rough-house with a girl like that,” said the boy. He walked forward, kneeling down before her and offered her a handkerchief. Y/N took it gingerly, wondering what she was supposed to do it with. Her clothes were covered in dirt and her face was probably smeared with it as well. Atsumu glanced down, meeting her eye. His shoulders shook dangerously even as he met Aran’s gaze again.

“I’m Kita Shinsuke. I apologize on the twin’s behalf.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get them back,” promised Y/N. Her eyes glittered with a hint of danger.

“Seeking revenge will only cause you pain,” Kita scolded, “Accept their apology and let them learn from it.”

Osamu twitched, hand flying to his mouth to choke back his laugh as Y/N’s eyes widened. Why was she getting scolded when the twins were the ones who had been misbehaving?

“You alright?” Aran asked, hands pressed tightly on her shoulders as he looked over her for any injuries. “Thought I told you to stop messing around with the twins.”

“They kidnapped me, Ojiro-senpai.”

“Don’t pulled the senpai card. It doesn’t work on me,” said Aran, but his lips twitched into a reluctant smile despite his words. He offered her hand which she eagerly took.

“This is L/N Y/N,” Aran said. “Somehow Dumb and Dumber convinced her to be our manager, so try not to act like you usually do.”

“She’ll eat you for breakfast if you do. Like Kaonashi,” said Atsumu. Y/N rolled her eyes, pulling her skirt straight and attempting to fix her wrinkled blouse. Aran’s fingers brushed the top of her head, smoothing down locks of hair that had escaped her braid.

“Don’t listen to them. They barely managed to learn how read, let alone play volleyball,” she said. Aran laughed behind her, the sound low and rumbling like the purr of a cat. It warmed her to her bones and a hint of a flush entered her cheeks, reminding her once more why she had been avoiding being manager in the first place.

June 21, 2012: 15:21

Kibasen was the stupidest thing they could get caught playing. Y/N knew she shouldn’t have listened when they first suggested it, but somehow, she ended up sitting on top of Suna’s shoulders while Osamu sat on top of Atsumu’s. The twins were still fighting over the fact that Osamu was on top, while Y/N attempted to tie the bandana around her head as tightly as possibly.

“Don’t let me fall,” said Y/N to Suna. He tilted his head back slightly and sighed loudly.

“Whatever,” he said.

“Oi, Y/N prepare to lose.”

“I thought horses couldn’t talk,” she said. Osamu howled in laughter, nearly toppling over had Atsumu not been holding him so tightly.

Osamu came in hard, pulling and tugging at her hair to get the bandana off. He barely filched as her fingers dug into his forearms and attempted to shake him off. They’re wobbling all over the place, spurred on by the cheers of the first and second years.

“Come on, give up,” whined Osamu.

“Ugh, my scalp is literally gonna fall off, you bastard. Stop it,” she shouted back.

Her finger got right under the bandana, ready to pull it off, when the gym door flew open. The look of complete bewilderment on Aran’s face was almost worth the scolding they would get from Kita.

“Do I need to get a babysitter for all of you?” Aran asked. She laughed, clutching Suna’s hair for dear life when he jerked forward in an attempt to throw her off.

“If I say it’s not what it looks like, would you believe me?” she asked. Aran shook his head and sighed in the same breath. She clambered off Suna, ducking beneath Kita’s cold stare.

“Why do I always find you in some sort of trouble?” Aran muttered. He helped her down, shooing Suna in Kita’s direction. Y/N smiled up at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice how sweaty she was.

“I’m trying to make your life interesting, senpai.”

“Try a little less,” he said. The warm grin he gave her sent a jolt right through her spine, “And stop calling me senpai. It’s creepy coming from you.”

“Yes, Aran-san,” she said. He groaned, dropping his head into the palm of his hands for a moment. She took slight pleasure in his annoyance, wondering how far she could push his buttons. Watching Aran yell at the twins was an experience in its own, but he was unknowingly funny when he was trying to prove his point. Once, she had claimed that the US hadn’t landed on the moon, just to watch him try and disprove her every argument.

“Oi, do you have to be so….”

“So what? Cute? Pretty? Adorable? Sma-“

“Annoying.”

“Ouch, that almost hurt.”

“I doubt it.

“Well, all that exercise made me hungry. Buy me food.”

“Don’t you have parents? Ask them.”

“Be a good senpai, Aran.”

“No. Go away.”

“Aran, I want food…. noodles and goyza. Or rice? BBQ? Chicken? I can’t choose,” she muttered under her breath.

“Just ten minutes of peace, that’s all I want.”

June 21, 2012 18: 55

“Ohhhh,” said Osamu. He leaned in close enough that she could smell a hint of mint on his breath and flicked her on the forehead. “Someone has a crush.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, grabbing his sleeve as she looked around. Osamu laughed, throwing an arm over her shoulder. She wished suddenly that she could be like him or Atsumu. The twins never worried about right or wrong. They were creatures of pure passion, throwing themselves forward without a care of the consequences. But, Y/N was too proud to declare that she was envious of their attitudes. Her caution was often mocked, but it had helped her more times than not.

“Just tell him,” Osamu shrugged. She closed her eyes, pressing away the storm of thoughts raging in her mind.

She nursed the small flame of affection. Aran didn’t need to know. No one did. She pulled away from Osamu. A frown entering his brow, as if he were annoyed or confused at her lack of an answer. He let her drift off further ahead, hands twisting and untwisting before her. They were still young, years down the line they might resent each other for whatever relationship they had. She didn’t want that.

A tense silence settled in her body, the sort of silence that comes before a clap of thunder. If the choice lay between having Aran and losing him, she’d always—without a doubt in her mind—pick having him in her life. Aran and her might never be more than friends and she was okay with that. Besides, she’d never loved anyone in her life and doubted that she loved Aran. She was simply drawn to the brightness that surrounded him like a moth pressing closer to a lone lantern.

She paused, waiting for Osamu to catch up.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you mean what?”

“You look crazy. It’s making me nervous.”

“Shut up,” she muttered. They were approaching the end of the block and the familiar scent of food rose in the air, chicken, and the slight char of BBQ from the restaurants lined up and down the street. She and Osamu exchanged matching grins. Her parents would yell at her later for wasting money on food when they had some at home, but her and Osamu were too far gone to care about such things.

August 26, 2012

Summer vacation with the team meant taking a bonding trip out to Tokimeki. It also meant snapping at the various gawking idiots who muttered under their breath about foreigners. Snapping did nothing stop the stares coming from people who were used to seeing their own face reflected in everyone around them.

If they felt or saw her annoyance growing, no one said anything about it, sharing the same tenseness that she did. Only Kita had a sense of calm about him as they switched trains. Y/N moved closer to Aran shoving herself between the twins. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before he reached over and took her bag from her, tossing it at one of the twins.

“What did you pack? That was heavy,” he asked with a frown. Y/N looked up glad to have a distraction. It was odd seeing everyone not in uniforms. The Pokémon t-shirt he wore was slightly faded from constant wear. She wondered if it was his favorite or if someone had gifted it to him and he’d taken to wearing it often.

“Clothes, snacks, and my manga collection.”

“I’m stealing some of that.”

“I don’t think my shirts will fit you, Aran.”

“You’re the worse person I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Wow, save that passion for the be-“Aran put his hand over her mouth, muffling the rest of her words as a small child gazed at them with curiosity. He laughed awkwardly as Kita turned towards them with a raised brow. Her tongue darted out from behind her lips and licked the palm of his hand. Aran didn’t even flinch and gave her a warning glance.

“Promise not to say anything inappropriate.”

She nodded and the moment he let go uttered the word bedroom as loudly as she could.

August 29, 2012

The beach was as horrible as she imagined. Suna refused to give up any space beneath the umbrella, stating that if he got a sunburn he couldn’t play. She was stuck sweating beneath the hot sun, wondering if the water was as cold as everyone said it was.

“I miss spring,” she muttered, pulling her hair up. The back of her neck was slick with sweat and she felt her annoyance with the world grow with every passing second.

“Let’s go get ice-cream,” Aran suggested. He threw her a look of pity, holding his hand out for her. Y/N took it eagerly, ignoring the snickers coming off the twins.

“It’s not that hot,” Aran said with a laugh.

“I know that, but something about the heat just shortens my temper,” answered Y/N. Aran shook his head and laughed.

“Really? You with a short temper?” he asked. She winced, thinking of all those times she’d been caught by him fighting with the twins.

“It’s not that short,” she muttered, instantly glaring at the sand that wavered from the heat.

“At least I have backup for the twins now. I swear I saw Kita’s eye twitch last week,” he said with a laugh.

They walked along the shore in comfortable silence, Aran’s height shielding her slightly from the sun. The cool summer breeze and icy water are enough to calm her down slightly. Her nerves came racing back, twisting dangerously in her gut. Even as they reached the ice-cream stand—how did Aran know her favorite—Y/N’s words repeatedly failed her. Part of her was afraid to break the peaceful quiet they had settled in. She liked that they didn’t need words between them. But another part ached to say something, anything to get rid of the constant anxiety that cropped up when she was alone with him. Did he know she had a crush on him? Sometimes she thought he did, and the fear of rejection circled through her like vultures over a carcass.

“You know,” Aran said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, “When we first met, I honestly thought you were insane.”

“What?”

“You were just so loud; it was a bit scary.”

“I’m loud because people are dumb. Especially adults.”

“I know, but you looked crazy as a kid, screaming like a maniac at everyone…but, I’m glad you never grew out of it.”

“I had a giant crush on you,” she admitted. Aran choked on his ice-cream, coughing roughly as her faced her head on. His eyebrows rose high as he searched for a response but failed to find one.

“It was during that training camp. I came to show Atsumu how cool the bandage looked on my arm and he kept making fun of me for falling in the first place and then you told him to stop because he’d hit the net face first. That was the highlight of my year,” said Y/N.

“Wh..what? Why? For how long?”

“Should I tell you?” she teased and stopped walking, “I was probably insane back then.”

“Yes! You can’t just tell someone something like that and not explain. It’s human decency,” said Aran, waving his ice-cream about. She watched as it fell from the cone towards the ground with a splat. Her laugh, high pitched and louder than most, sounded in the air. Aran sighed, grumbling about how he needed a new team and should have stayed home. Y/N felt lighter then she had in a while.

October 19, 2012

With a flick of his wrist, he tapped the ball over the net between the blockers that had lined up in front of Aran and Suna. With a smirk, Atsumu landed back on his feet, winking at a fuming Uchida. If he hissed anymore, Atsumu would mistake her for a snake.

“You didn’t think I’d let you scare me, did you, Uchida-chan?” he mocked. Aran clapped him on the back. One more and the match would be over.

“You’re such a bastard,” Uchida muttered across the net. Aran smiled, a cutting grin that lacked any of his usual calm. Aran wanted to retort that being bastards was what made them win games but felt that it was a bit cruel for a team about to lose their chance to go to Nationals.

“Keep that to yourself,” Aran said, pulling a fuming Atsumu away from the net. “Don’t bother with them. Just win.”

“Hey, I’m not dumb. I know that.”

“Just serve and watch out for my head,” said Aran. He glanced to the side once where Y/N was pacing as she watched the game. He was surprised to find that she was dealing with the stress well. During their very first match, she had promptly vomited all over Kita on the bus ride over to the gym. If anyone doubted Kita’s status as a saint, it was reaffirmed as he calmly cleaned up the mess and pulled out medicine that he bought in anticipation of someone puking.

She sent him a thumbs up once she noticed his gaze. Her smile came out more like a grimace and the green tint to her face worried him slightly. He wondered how it was possible for someone to be so confident everywhere else and turn into a nervous wreck at the thought of losing a game.

At the sound of the whistle, Atsumu tossed the ball in the air. Silence followed his steps. The lack of spin made it easy to hit and as he landed back, he watched as the ball swerved in the air, towards the back line. Sato got a hand on it, but the ball veered left towards the crowd. There was a scramble, Uchida and Midori jumping over one another to try and reach it. The ball hit the ground with a resounding thud, echoed by the loud trill of horns as Inarizaki’s band started back up.

“YES!” Akagi shouted, turning around and jumping on top of him. Atsumu caught him, only to stumble as Osamu and Ginjima latched onto him.

They were going to Nationals. His last one. Something hot and heavy burned its way through his body. They would win, Aran thought. He didn’t care how. He didn’t who they went against. Inarizaki would emerge as the champions. Like the throbbing beat of a drum, it echoed through their minds as they turned to each other. One by one, little by little, they would topple the other teams.

December 24, 2012

Aran wasn’t sure how he’d gotten dragged out of the house on Christmas Eve, but Y/N has somehow ushered him into his jacket and tossed a greeting to his mother in the same breath before he’d gotten kidnapped. Snow fell in small light flurries around them. The smell of chestnuts and roasted yams filled the air. He tried not to think about all the couples around them, celebrating the holiday together. His Christmas’s at home might be more American thanks to his mother, but he’d grown up here where Christmas Eve was Valentine’s day 2.0.

Y/N didn’t seem to notice or care. She rarely did, even if it sometimes embarrassed him how oblivious she was to the fact that people thought they were a couple when they hung out. He’d tried to get her out of his mind, but it seemed impossible when she was there all the time.

“Look the Christmas Tree,” she said, racing forward to look at the extravagant light display in the middle of the square. He bit back a smile at the accent marring the word Christmas. Growing up in a half-American, half-Japanese household had given him an advantage over his class when it came to English. He was always quick to point it out when his teammates or Y/N attempted to show off their skills in the language.

“Slow down,” he called out. She looked back, realizing that he hadn’t followed her and waited patiently.

“You’re the athlete, move it.”

“The tree isn’t going anywhere. It’s nice out, let’s just enjoy it.”

“Ahh, but then we will be late for dinner.”

“Dinner? Y/N, what the hell? Why didn’t you tell me before we left?”

“I was afraid you would say no,” she said, softly. She gazed away from him, leaving him surprised by the low slope of her shoulders and the slight flush on her face. He sighed, tugging her hand out of her pocket and laced their fingers together. Her hand was smaller and smoother than his, but the feeling of her warm palm against his felt right. He swallowed hard and looked away from her bright eyes.

He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t ever tell her no, but the words were stuck in his throat. He settled for holding onto her hand for as long as she’d let him. Eventually, the weight of her hand in his fades away and hours later, when they’ve walked in circles, snacking on food from each of the market stalls, carrying small gifts between them, does he realize that they’d never even made it to the restaurant.

January 6th, 2012

“You’re crying,” Kita said. He was gazing at her as if he’d never really seen her before. Y/N shook it off, wiping her tears off with the back of her palm. She felt like a fool, crying like a child over the loss of a game. For Atsumu and Osamu there was always next year, but for the third years, this had been their last chance. Seeing how hard they fought, to the very end of the match, left a dull ache in her heart. It wasn’t fair, she thought. To have gone so far at Inter-High and be out in their first match at Nationals. In that moment, she hated their stupid logo. Why shouldn’t they have memories? Kita and the rest wouldn’t disappear after this year, they deserved to be remembered.

“Sorry,” she muttered. Kita reached into his jacket pocket and silently handed her a handkerchief. She had the unexplainable urge to hug him.

“There isn’t any reason to apologize, L/N-san. I understand how you are feeling. If I could ask for more time together as a team, I would,” he smiled, softly. Y/N’s breath stuttered, stunned because she doubted, she'd ever seen him smile, “But we played a good match, don’t you think so?”

“The best,” she swore.

“Then save your tears for something more important. We have no regrets, so you shouldn’t be upset.” Kita stared at her for a moment longer, before nodding his head towards Aran. “You should tell him, L/N-chan. I think right now, he would be happy to hear it.”

It’s the push that Y/N needed. A bought of bravery or stupidity or both fill her. Y/N had hidden behind her own fears for so long, she had begun to think it was normal. But she’d never been the type to hold back.

“Ojiro Aran,” Y/N said, forcefully. Aran looked away from Suna, grimacing as he caught sight of her swollen eyes.

“Hey, they’ll win next time,” he said. Y/N shook her head, scoffing at his foolishness in the moment.

“I like you. I’ve like you ever since we first met and it’s okay if you don’t like me. I just wanted you to know and well, I’m sorry that you lost, but you’ll be a good playe-“

She was cut off by his hand on her mouth.

“I’m supposed to say it frist,” he said. He pulled his hand away only to cup her cheek gently. She leaned into the touch, afraid that if she moved, it would all turn into a dream. He moved closer, closing the gap between them. She kissed his jaw, dragging her lips to meet his. His lips, hot and sweet, taste of the honeyed lemons he had earlier. Aran swelled beneath her touch, like the first bloom of spring. He pulled her flush against him, the movement full of longing. She could smell nothing but him, the sharp sent of fire, the warmth of the earth.

Y/N does not know how long they are there. She drank him in, each sweetened breath, each movement of his lips. She thought, that this is the closest to happy she has been.

The moment was broken by Atsumu whistling sharply as he clapped the two of them on the back. Aran immediately pulled away, retorting sharply that he shouldn’t make a scene after he’d lost the game.

Y/N sighed, resigning herself to her fate. Despite all her complaints, she wouldn’t trade this team for the world. A glance at Kita told her that he wouldn’t either.

General Taglist: @haikyuuopalite @raenebalgaire

#aran ojiro #Haikyuu x reader #aran x reader #ojiro x reader #haikyuu #ojiro aran x reader #ojiro aran scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshot

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kythed · 3 years

Text

circus mirrors & stereo hearts

sugawara koushi x reader

this one goes out to my new friend, @twat-101 :) it’s a bit long, but I hope you still like it ! sending lotsa love your way <3

synopsis: (y/n) is struggling with her mental health so her best friend suga-san invites her over to study. general chaos and dumbassery ensues.

warnings: some swearing, mentions of mental health struggles, suga’s tone deaf singing.

word count: 4,226

Koushi always kept his windows open. Always.

In the winter, this transformed his room into a tiny Antarctica, replete with stray snowflakes, but in the summer, it meant cool tradewinds cutting through the typically stifling heat, creating a little pocket of the ideal climate. You often found yourself there in these warmer months, perched on the corner of his bed, contently listening to him blithely gossip about his teammates or playing a giggly game of Connect Four rife with not so subtle cheating.

Today, a sunny August Saturday, was no different. Koushi sat cross legged on the carpet. Sprawled out across his pale blue comforter, which smelled of fresh linen and that familiar Old Spice he’d been wearing since the eighth grade, you listened to him recite a chapter from your history book, something about post World War II foreign policy. Struggling to remain attentive, however, you found yourself spiraling into those cheerless resignations of hopelessness that had been far too frequent for you lately.

“--which resulted in Europe’s economic recovery chiefly in terms of raw materials, food, and fuel. The Soviet Union soon attempted to replicate a similar plan but ultimately-- hey, (Y/N)?”

You blinked hard and sunk back into reality, turning onto your cheek to look Koushi in his big brown eyes full of rather matronly concern. “Hmm?”

“Do you know what we’re learning about right now?” he asked, sounding both amused and disapproving. A strand of grey fell in front of his face and he quickly blew it away, smiling slightly. “Because it seems like you’ve been zoning out for the last ten or so minutes. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but Mr. Shishido specifically said this chapter was going to be on the test.”

“Uh… something about muzzer Roosia?” you joked with an exaggerated accent.

Koushi rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead. You yelped and glared at him reproachfully. “We were talking about the Marshall Plan. The United States’ recovery aid program for Western Europe after wartime devastation.”

“Right, right, I knew that,” you protested as Koushi tugged on your forearms and you toppled off the bed, nearly landing right on top of him. With a soft laugh, he extracted his limbs from yours and plopped his head into your lap like he used to when you were kids, resting beneath the boughs of that little oak tree in his backyard, listening to a choir of cicadas croon under a late afternoon sun. The ghost of a grin flitted over your face as you looked back on those halcyon days of your childhood. Usually Koushi’s mom would come out onto the porch with a couple of already-melting lemon popsicles in hand, and the two of you would scramble out of each other’s embrace and tear towards her, breathlessly racing for a priceless reward of sweet smiles and sticky hands.

What you wouldn’t give to go back to that time of gleeful oblivion, before your world became characterized by that all too persistent self-consciousness and excruciating anxiety. What you wouldn’t give to once again feel worthy of Koushi’s innocent adoration…

“--(Y/N)!”

For the second time today, you shook yourself awake. Koushi gazed up at you, brows furrowed. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was asking if you needed to take a little study break. Obviously, you do. I swear, your attention span gets shorter every day.” He pointed somewhere behind you. “Mind grabbing my phone? It’s on the bed.”

You leaned over as far as you could without disturbing Koushi’s position, head still nestled in your lap, and swept your hand over the covers before it bumped into his phone, which you promptly snatched and dropped onto his stomach. He gave a soft “oomph” at the impact before pulling up his Spotify and selecting a playlist, the cover of which was a selfie of the two of you at last year’s spring carnival. A blurred sakura tree provided the perfect backdrop for your smiling faces pressed cheek-to-cheek to fit in the frame. Sugar dusted the corners of Koushi’s mouth, the last trace of the powdered donut you’d shared right before.

“What’s that? I don’t think I’ve listened to that one before.” You reached for the phone, but Koushi held it out just out of reach as music began to play, batting your hand away. “I look awful in that picture; you could’ve chosen something a little more flattering.”

“Oh, shush. You looked pretty that day, wearing that blue sundress with the little flowers on the hem… blue really suits you, you know.” Koushi smiled fondly at his screen, and you blushed despite yourself. “It’s a compilation of all our songs. I listened to this a lot last summer when you were in France with your family for a month. Whenever I missed you. You were off climbing the Eiffel Tower or making croissants and I was lounging around here, bored out of my mind and wishing you were home so we could be bored together.”

“You sappy bastard,” you said, though you really felt quite touched. “I didn’t even realize we had a song.”

“Not just a song,” he corrected. “Songs. Plural. Most of the songs we’ve ever listened to together, I reckon. Anything that reminds me of you, I put on here.”

“Why in the world would you do that?” you asked, aghast at his effort.

Koushi laughed at your surprise. “You’re my best friend, (Y/N). And believe or not, you mean a lot to me. I just like remembering the stuff we’ve done together.”

You nodded slowly, letting your fingers rest on his forehead and gently play with his grey locks. His eyes closed as you settled into a brief, comfortable almost-silence, tainted only by the soft, muffled melody trickling from tiny phone speakers. You cocked your head. “What song is this?”

“You don’t remember?” Koushi asked, sounding almost offended. He turned the volume up a few notches and held the phone closer to your ear.

Let's Marvin Gaye and get it on

You got the healing that I want

Just like they say it in the song

Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on

“I don’t know if--” you cut off as it dawned on you. “Wait… no way. This isn’t…?”

“It is.” Koushi laughed as your face flushed a vivid crimson. “Uchimura’s party.”

Though embarrassed, you grinned, remembering that night. “The song that played at her twelfth birthday while we were in the closet during seven minutes in heaven.”

“We were way too young for that dumb game,” Koushi said with a smile, shaking his head. “God, I was so nervous. That was my first kiss, you know.”

“It was mine too,” you admitted. You remembered sitting on the carpeted floor of Uchimura’s rather cramped closet, knees touching, just barely able to see the outline of Koushi’s face illuminated by the smallest sliver of light shining through a crack in the door. He’d leaned forward, taking your hand in his own small clammy one. “It was really just a peck, though. It might not have counted.”

“It counted,” said Koushi firmly. “Whenever I get asked about my first kiss, I say it was ours. I say it was the best one I’ve ever had, too.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Now, I know that’s a lie. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.”

“Neither did I,” agreed Koushi. He caught your eye, crinkling his nose cutely. “That’s what made it so sweet. It was innocent. I tasted your bubblegum chapstick on my lips afterwards.”

“Bubblegum chapstick, huh?” You rolled your eyes and poked him softly in the ribs. “I couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for like three weeks after that.”

“I remember. You kept running away whenever I tried to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not sure we would’ve even stayed friends if Ms. Miyato hadn’t partnered us up for the volcano project at the end of that month.” You recalled those afternoons spent in Koushi’s kitchen, newspapers covering every visible surface and a huge, paper-mache volcano resting on the dining table, splattered with orange and yellow paint and smelling strongly of Elmer’s glue and vinegar. Oftentimes, work sessions would dissolve into paint fights, staining your school uniforms with small, colorful hand prints.

“Nah,” said Koushi confidently. “I wouldn’t have let you go that easily.”

“Maybe you should’ve,” you said under your breath.

Koushi stared at you for a second, sighing. Then he reached up to grasp your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and softly stroking his thumb across your palm. “You know, it was Uchimura’s eighteenth last weekend. You didn’t come.”

“Yeah. I had to study.” That was a lie. You just hadn’t thought anyone really wanted you there. Uchimura had been a friend of yours for years, but she had plenty of other friends to celebrate with. Probably didn’t even notice you weren’t there…

“She asked me where you were,” Koushi continued. “I said I didn’t know because you didn’t answer my texts that night.”

“Sorry,” you said quietly, avoiding eye contact. “Studying.”

“On a Friday night?” You didn’t answer, and Koushi squeezed your hand. “I had to choose Daichi for my charades partner… do you have any idea how shit he is at charades? He flopped on the ground and started convulsing, so I guessed ‘epilepsy.’ Guess what the word really was.”

“What?”

“Orgasm. The word was orgasm. You’d think he could just execute a simple pelvic thrust and make a face, but no, he had to go ahead and act like my great uncle Kaito when he had that heart attack at his ninety-fifth birthday last year.”

You cracked a small smile, imagining Daichi violently wiggling on the floor like a fish out of water. “Sounds like I missed out, then.”

“You really did,” said Koushi, eyes twinkling. He suddenly got solemn. “I missed you. Would’ve been a million times more fun with you there.”

“I doubt it.” You fiddled with the edge of your shirt, smile fading. “I can be a real killjoy sometimes.”

“Not to me,” said Koushi. “Whenever you walk into the room, suddenly that’s the only room I wanna be in.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you swallowed thickly. “Koushi… why are you telling me this?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said simply. He took your hand again, the one that had been playing with his hair, and held it to his chest. You felt his heart beat erratically beneath your palm. “You’ve been avoiding all our friends in general.”

“That’s not true,” you protested, though your heart sank. He had noticed. You wished you didn’t have to drag him into all your problems. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy with what, (Y/N)? Homework? Our physics teacher came and talked to me at my locker after school, asking if you’ve been struggling with any personal issues, because apparently you haven’t been turning in your assignments.” Koushi glanced up at you. “It seems like you’ve just been locked away in your room whenever you’re not in class. Not doing work, not going out. Remember a couple weeks ago, when I asked if you wanted to go see that movie with me at the drive-in? You said you had a family dinner in town, but later I passed by on my bike and your bedroom light was on. And today, it took four separate phone calls before you finally picked up and I managed to invite you over… I’ve been worried.”

“Maybe I’m just changing,” you protested weakly. “That’s a thing that happens. People change.”

“I agree, you have been changing. Just not for the better.” Koushi squeezed your hand again, his skin warm on your own. “I haven’t seen you smile, really smile, for ages. You’re always faking these days. What’s going on?”

“I…” you trailed off, trying to think of some excuse. The last thing you wanted was for Koushi to see what was really going on inside your head.

“The truth, (Y/N).”

You relented, shoulders sagging. “Just been tired, I guess.”

“Tired of what?”

“Tired of…” Your eyes grew moist despite your best efforts and you fought to keep from choking on the sob rising up your throat.

“Tired of…?” he pressed on, eyebrow raised.

Your next words tumbled out in a rush. “Just tired of being me, okay? It’s like… it’s just like, whenever I look in the mirror… I don’t like what I see. I don’t like myself, so I don’t want to be me anymore. I’m so tired of it. And I feel like everyone else is, too. Everyone is tired of my shit, so I thought I’d just do you all a favor and disappear.”

Your words stunned Koushi into silence. He remained resting in your lap for a few long seconds before he felt something hot and wet roll down his cheek. A tear. But not his own.

He looked up just in time for another one of your tears to land on his face, right underneath his eye. Quickly, he sat up and tenderly cupped your face in his hands, gently brushing the tears away with his thumbs. “Oh, (Y/N)... c’mere. That’s such bullshit.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you hiccupped as he pulled you into his lap by your waist-- facing him-- and gingerly tucked your head into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this. It’s gross, I know.”

“It’s not gross,” said Koushi, fiercely hugging you to his chest. “It’s much better than watching you try to pretend like you’re fine. I don’t care if your snot gets on my shirt-- that’s a small price to pay. So long as I can be there for you right now.”

You cried harder, immense guilt racking your body at his inexplicable kindness. “I’ve been treating you terribly these past few months, but you’re still so good to me. Goddamnit, Koushi. I don’t deserve you.”

Koushi pulled you back by the shoulders, narrowed eyes searching your face, though tears continued to stream down your cheeks. “(Y/N). You don’t have to earn my love.”

“I-- love?” you asked, eyes wide. You snatched a tissue from Koushi’s bedside table and blew your nose loudly.

“Yeah,” he said firmly, without missing a beat. “I said it. I love you. And don’t ask if I mean in a friend way or a girlfriend way, because the answer is neither. I love you like you’re the person I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I don’t care if that means as, like, your husband or just as your best friend. Whatever I can get, I’m happy with, because I love you like you’re a part of me. Unconditionally. I thought you knew that.”

“Please, don’t say that,” you sobbed, covering your face with your hands. “I’m not good enough for you. I’m really not.”

Koushi pulled your hands away so he could look you in the eye. “What don't you understand about the term ‘unconditional love’? It’s unconditional. There is literally nothing you nor anyone else can say or do to change that. Unconditional love is not a feeling, it’s a choice, and I’ve made that choice. I’ve had nearly two decades to think about it, so now I’m telling you I will love you no matter what. I always have, alright? This isn’t exactly how I wanted to say it, but it’s true.”

You stared at him, disbelieving. You hadn’t known he’d felt this way. Of course, you two had been partners-in-crime your entire lives, and you couldn’t count the number of times he’d materialized at your side as soon as you were in the slightest bit of trouble. Whenever you were a dollar short at the canteen, he’d stuff a five in your hand and push you towards the front of the line. That time you went camping with his family and you forgot your sleeping bag, he’d given you his and spent the night shivering. He always carried an extra pen for you because yours often inexplicably ran out of ink in the middle of a test. He’d been there for every crush, boyfriend, and breakup, cheering you on and drying your tears when the time came. He’d been there when your pet dog died and you planned a funeral in your backyard, complete with a little cardboard headstone, holding an umbrella above your head when it began to rain but you weren’t done mourning. He’d just always been there when you needed him.

You’d tried to be there for him, too, because, as you had begun to realize, his pain was your pain and vice versa. That time when you were six and he’d lost his favorite stuffed animal (a giraffe) it had felt like you’d lost yours too. That day in junior high when he fell out of the oak tree trying to retrieve a stray frisbee and broke his arm, you swore you felt the same pain in yours. Last year when he got dumped outside the gym on Valentine’s Day and you found him sitting in a corner, trying to hide the fact he’d obviously been crying-- you’d stayed late to crack stupid jokes and eat the chocolate he meant to give to his girlfriend, because he deserved a girl who would eat the damn chocolate. Not stomp on his heart and leave it to bleed. I love you like you’re a part of me. You understood.

“It’s okay to not be okay sometimes, but it’s not okay to bundle it all up and bury it deep inside when you have someone right next to you wanting to help you bear that burden.” Koushi’s voice shook just slightly. “It just… it hurts to see you like this, okay? (Y/N), if you love me back, then let me help you. Let me be there for you. Please.”

You were silent for a moment, staring into his pleading eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes.

Then you took a deep breath and started laughing through the tears. You were sure you looked insane, puffy eyes, red nose, and mascara running down your cheeks, but it didn’t matter. “I do. I love you, too. I love you. I didn’t know I loved you before, but now I do, because if you were torn away from me that heartbreak would probably kill me. No, it would definitely kill me. And it would hurt like a motherfucker while it did.”

Koushi let out the breath he’d been holding then, after a brief pause, began to laugh with you as you laced your arms around the back of your neck. “Oh, yeah? Well, losing you would probably hurt like a father-fucker to me.”

“Is that worse than a motherfucker?” you asked, giggling at the ridiculousness of it all. Here you were, bawling on the floor of your best friend’s room while you confessed your love to one another and cussed each other out at the same time.

“For sure. It’s a million times worse than a motherfucker. It’s like, if something hurting like a motherfucker is the equivalent of getting shot by a Nerf gun, something hurting like a fatherfucker probably feels like getting run over by a tank.” Koushi intertwined his fingers with yours yet again and smiled.

“You’re a dumbass,” you said, but you laughed anyways as Koushi looked proud of himself.

“I know,” he said softly, affectionately. “But I’m your dumbass.”

You sighed and shook your head. “I’d love you to be. But you could still do so much better than me--”

“Will you stop saying that, already?” Koushi took your face in his hand, stroking his thumb right beneath your eye. “You’re the most radiant person I’ve ever met. Notice how I didn’t say ‘beautiful’ because the word beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it. Although you are that, too.”

“Oh, goodness. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again-- you’re so sappy.”

Koushi rolled his eyes with a smile. “Yeah, I am. You like it though.”

“You caught me,” you said as he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You leaned into it, savoring the warmth of his lips on your skin. “I do.”

“But really, (Y/N),” he said seriously. “It astounds me that you don’t realize that.”

“Don’t realize what?”

“That you’re cool! You’re so cool and fun and awesome. And a zillion other adjectives I could sit here and list out for hours. You’re the only person who can make me laugh when I cry, and you make the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted, and you’re a literal god at Mario Kart, and you’ve got the prettiest eyes I’ve ever had the privilege to look into.” You flushed as Koushi thought for a moment, chewing on his lip before his eyes widened. “It’s kinda like a circus mirror, I think.”

“What?” You furrowed your brow.

“The way you see yourself is like someone looking into one of those circus mirrors. It makes you look too tall, or really squished, or just bent out of shape in general. And if that was the only mirror you’d ever looked into, you’d probably think that ugly, distorted reflection is how you actually look in real life. You can’t see yourself for how amazing you really are-- but everyone else can.”

“Well, aren’t you just full of relevant analogies today?” you teased. A circus mirror. Now that was something new. You had to give Koushi credit for the comparison-- it actually did kind of make sense.

“What can I say?” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’m a poet.”

“So I guess that would make you my real mirror then?” you offered shyly. Koushi looked confused for a second. “If the way I see myself is supposedly ‘distorted,’ then you can reflect to me how I supposedly really am.”

“Oh, yes!” he said happily. “I’m the mirror. I like that. Quit talking like you don’t believe me, though. You’re incredible. A little thick-skulled sometimes, yes, but incredible nonetheless.”

“It’s going to be hard for me,” you said quietly, gently running a hand through his hair. “Really hard. I haven’t liked myself for a long time.”

“I know. I know. But someday, you’ll be able to understand what a beautiful human being you are. I’m sure of it. I need you to promise you won’t give up until that happens.”

He held out his pinky for a pinky swear, something you two did frequently as children. You smiled and laced your pinky with his. “Alright. I promise.”

“Good.” Koushi stood up, brushed the wrinkles from his pants, and offered you his hand. You took it and he pulled you up. “Listen. Do you remember this song?”

His little playlist had been playing this entire time. You hadn’t noticed. You strained to catch the lyrics. “Turn it up a little, I can’t quite hear.”

...a stereo

It beats for you, so listen close

Hear my thoughts in every note

“Koushi.” A slow smile spread across your face. “Tell me this isn’t Stereo Hearts.”

“Oh, this is Stereo Hearts alright!” he responded gleefully. He took your hand and spun you around like a ballroom dancer, catching you before you tripped over his bedside table. “You remember when we--”

“When we performed it at the junior high talent show and got booed off the stage?” You giggled, remembering that awful night that was somehow hilarious in retrospect. “I still have nightmares about that.”

Koushi continued to swing you around in some sort of clumsy dance, pulling you this way and that while you laughed wildly. “It’s ‘cause you were such a shit singer.”

You gasped in mock offense. “No way! You’re a much worse singer than I am. At least I can carry a tune.”

Koushi just rolled his eyes and grabbed a hairbrush from his shelf, using it like a microphone. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and began to serenade you in his terrible, tone-deaf manner.

Make me your radio

Turn me up when you feel low

This melody was meant for you

Just sing along to my stereo

“God, you really do suck at this,” you said, but he just smiled and kept singing. You had to admit, it was sweet. As silly as the memory associated with the song was, it remained a nostalgic favorite even now. You had to join in a few times, just for memory’s sake.

I only pray you never leave me behind

Because good music can be so hard to find

Koushi sat down next to you and wound one arm around your waist, leaning close.

I take your hand and pull it closer to mine

Thought love was dead, but now you're changing my mind

You turned and leaned in too, nearly touching noses.

“Hey,” he said in an almost whisper. “(Y/N) (L/N), I love you.”

“Hey,” you whispered back, gaze flitting down to his lips and back up again. “I love you, too, you sappy bastard.”

...so sing along to my stereo

“I know.” He closed the remaining inch of distance. Your hand tangled itself in his hair while his tugged your body a little closer.

The kiss was almost as good as the one in Uchimura’s closet all those years ago. Almost.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #anime #sugawara #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader

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loversamongus · 3 years

Text

In the Dark | Zuko x reader

summary: just a modern!gaang trying to make the best of a rainy day and you ending up in the same hiding spot as Zuko, what could be better?

a/n: this is so long for no reason and was written for no reason but I like it and I hope you do too. Also I didn’t proofread this well so please forgive any typos.

words: 2.5k

fic taglist: @spiritvines @protect-remus @emeraldpotato

The middle of August was supposed to be devoted to making happy memories before classes started again. The middle of August was supposed to be about steamy hot beach days at Ember Island, jumping over waves and burying Sokka in the sand. The middle of August was supposed to have all-nighters just playing video games or staying up with the girls talking about everything and nothing at the same time. The middle of August was supposed to be fucking awesome. But instead, it’s thunderstorm after thunderstorm after hurricane after thunderstorm.

The six of you were in various corners of the living room. Sokka and Suki sat around the coffee table, taking turns nibbling on a plate of nachos. Toph was perched sideways on the old, barely-holding-up armchair so that her head rested on one armrest while her feet hung off the other. Aang’s face was scrunched up in concentration as he braided Katara’s hair, who kneeled in front of the tv. You and Zuko took opposite ends on the couch, your legs sprawled on Zuko’s lap as he mindlessly flipped through the channels.

“Wait, no go back,” you nudged Zuko with your foot.

“No, I’m not watching Dance Moms.”

“Yeah,” Sokka chimed in with a stuffed mouth. “It makes him mad that Maddie can dance better than him.”

A pillow flew across the room until it collided with Sokka’s head. Before you could so much as let out a snort at your friend’s misfortune, thunder crashed outside and the windows rattled as wind and rain pelted against the glass. And the lamp in the corner of the living room flickered. And the tv froze.

“Oh no,” Katara whined.

“If we lose power again, I’ll scream,” you threatened. Sadly, the universe doesn’t bow down to the threats of a poor college student and soon the unmistakable pop of electricity shutting off was heard by all. The room was suddenly shrouded in darkness for the third time in ten days.

“GIVE ME THAT PILLOW” you yelled as, in the dark, Sokka and Suki both scrambled on the floor to fulfill your request.

“Huh, can’t say I notice a difference,” Toph smirked.

You felt a pillow being shoved in your direction and, snatching it gratefully, you shoved it in your face to release all your frustration with a single, drawn out, muffled screech.

“Now what are we gonna do?” you heard Aang say glumly.

You felt Zuko shift underneath your legs and you quickly adjusted yourself into an upright position. “If you even THINK about suggesting to think about our place in the universe, I will lock you outside for you scream at the skies, I don’t care.”

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands patting around the couch and as they got closer to your legs, you reached out to grab them. “What are you doing?” you asked.

Suki’s voice answered. “I’m sensing some hostility.” Rolling your eyes, you hoisted Suki up so that she could sit in between you and Zuko on the couch. Overcome with annoyance and misery over the present situation, you laid your head on her shoulder and her fingers began to soothingly weave through your hair. “Anyone got any ideas?” she asked.

“I know!” Aang exclaimed rather too cheerfully for your taste. “We could play hide and go seek in the dark!”

Zuko scoffed. Everyone else seemed to weigh the option out in their minds. And that was the thing. It was the only option at the moment. They could join in on a seemingly juvenile game. Or sit in the living room and stare at each other until they were so bored that the only thing left to do was to go to sleep. Already you began warming up to the idea. And if worse comes to worst, at least you could scare Sokka a few times for shits and giggles.

“All right. Let’s do it!” You and Suki stood up from the couch as your mind began listing off all the places you could possibly hide. Behind the tv, under the bed, in the linen closet, the cabinet under the sink, in the dryer...

“No, I’m not playing a dumb preschool game,” Zuko interrupted your list.

“Yeah... I dunno,” added Sokka.

“Why is it called hide and go seek ‘in the dark’? What difference does it make? Hide and seek is hide and seek,” Toph asked.

You chose to ignore the other two downers and exclaimed, “Because it’s spookier! And harder to find people! You know, because you can’t see them as well!”

“Yeah, can’t imagine what that must be like.”

“I think it’ll be fun!” Katara laughed.

Zuko stood up from the couch and you couldn’t tell for certain but you felt his presence draw further away from the group. “You guys go ahead. I’ll be in my room.”

“No!” you cried as you stuck out your arms in an attempt to find him, your eyes still not having adjusted to the dark room. “We’re all playing. We’re all going to HAVE FUN.”

“If I play, will you stop quoting Dance Moms?”

Your hands finally found his in the dark and you gave them a squeeze. “Yes, I promise.”

His hands relaxed in yours and then with a sigh, he spoke again. “All right. Sokka’s it first.”

And then the mad dash for hiding spots began. As you ran away from the living room, you heard Sokka miserably plop down on the couch, no doubt complaining that he had to be the seeker first before beginning the countdown from 30.

Your first thought was laying in the bathtub with the curtains drawn so you felt along the wall to find the bathroom door. But as soon as your hand grabbed hold of the doorknob, you felt someone else smack into you.

“Sorry!” Katara whispered, moving past you into the bathroom. You couldn’t even argue over the hiding spot because you were too busy rubbing the back of your head. You were sure it was Katara’s chin that slammed into it. Retreating from the bathroom, you struggled through the throbbing of your head to think of another hiding spot.

“15...14...13...12...”

“Shit,” you muttered. With Sokka almost done counting, you knew you weren’t going to make it to the laundry room to hide in the dryer in time. As you heard him near the ten second mark, you finally decided the best possible hiding spot was the closest room to the bathroom: Zuko’s room.

Tiptoeing as fast as you could, you scuttled into Zuko’s room. Your eyes were able to make out the door of his closet that was left slightly ajar. With Sokka’s countdown almost complete, you knew it would have to do. You took one step over the threshold of the closet before dropping your knees to the ground. Only your knees didn’t hit the hardwood floor like you had expected.

“WATCH IT,” someone whisper-yelled as they freed their hand from under the weight of your knees. It was somehow even darker so you reached out your hands again to act as your eyes. A rough patch of skin and a mop of hair brushed your fingertips.

“Zuko?”

“Get out of here! This is my hiding spot!”

“You were just complaining about playing this game and now you have dibs on hiding spots like a toddler?!”

“I was here first!”

“Oh my god, you are a toddler!”

“4....3....2....1..... READY OR NOT HERE I COME.”

Suddenly, you felt arms stretch out to reach behind you and you heard to click of the closet door being closed. Those arms wrapped around your waist next and pulled you down into a corner on the floor. Now leaning against his chest, you heart raced, and your head throbbed a bit harder from the sudden movement, but Zuko sat completely still. You could barely hear him breathe.

You heard Sokka’s footsteps come down the hallway and you tried to calm your breathing so he wouldn’t hear. The footsteps paused for a moment outside of Zuko’s room but then picked up again and continued into the house. You felt it safe to move the few inches of space the closet allowed away from Zuko’s chest.

“You didn’t have to pull me down so hard,” you whispered, your hands moving to your temples to massage the headache.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want you to get caught.”

“Me? What about you? We’re in this together now.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who actually wanted to play this game. Couldn’t let you get caught first.”

“Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this.”

“Anything is better than the fit you’d throw if you lost to Sokka in the first round.”

The both of you tried to stifle your laughter as best you could in order to not make too much noise. In the distance you could hear Sokka complaining about not liking this game anymore because the dark house is spooky. It only made you want to laugh harder but keeping down the giggles only managed to make your head pound more.

“Ow...”

“What’s the matter?” Zuko questioned.

“Katara and I collided heads. Now I have a headache.”

Zuko was silent for a moment but you heard him shift besides you. Something fell off a hanger and landed in you lap. “What are you doing?”

“Wait here,” he said as a teeny bit of light came into the closet. Zuko had opened the door. Zuko was leaving the hiding spot.

“Where are you going?!”

He shushed you harshly in response and then he was gone. You knew he wouldn’t hear it but you let out an annoyed scoffed anyways. Really. To be shushed like that. How rude.

A couple of minutes go by and the boredom starts to set in. Who knew Sokka would be such a terrible seeker. In the darkness, you start feeling around Zuko’s closet for anything interesting— anything the slightest bit amusing to keep you occupied. A thought popped up that this scenario wouldn’t be half as boring if Zuko just stayed where he was, but no, he just had to leave. And after manhandling you and shushing you! Definitely rude. Your hand fished in one of the pockets of his coats and you heard the crinkle of a wrapper.

“Aha!” you quietly exclaimed as you pulled out a small wrapped Jolly Rancher. “He is a toddler!”

Just then, the closet door swung back open, nealy making you jump out of your skin, and a tall silhouette stepped inside.

“It’s just me!” Zuko whispered, and crouching down, he resumed his place beside you. “I went to the kitchen and got you some aspirin for your head. And some water.”

“You did that without getting caught?” you asked while taking the aspirin and glass of water gratefully. Sokka really is a terrible seeker, you confirmed in your thoughts. You popped the two pills in your mouth and followed that up with a chug of water. While doing so, you heard something hit the floor.

“What was that?” It definitely wasn’t Sokka or anyone else because it sounded like it came from inside the closet.

“I got tired of sitting in the dark,” Zuko quietly explained. “So I grabbed one of the candles from your room, too.” Suddenly, a small flame erupted and lit the candle placed in the middle of the closet floor. “And the lighter from the kitchen.”

“Well, that’s probably a fire hazard.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to sit in the dark for the third time this week?”

“Zuko, we’re playing hide and seek!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll blow it out!”

“No, wait!” You grabbed onto his shoulder before he could bend down to blow out the candle. You considered just how miserable the past couple days have been with the constant downpours and losing electricity, events preventing you and your friends from having any kind of fun before the summer ended. The days have been so dark and gray lately that you had almost forgotten what light even looked like. What’s a small candle flame? You’ll just make sure no more of Zuko’s shirts fall off the hanger and onto the candle.

“If you were able to do all that without Sokka finding you, he probably wouldn’t notice light from coming under the door, right?” you asked, and Zuko settled back against the wall beside you again. You didn’t know how long you’d be stuck in this hiding spot so, deciding to make yourself comfortable, you rested your head on Zuko’s shoulder.

“This summer was supposed to be fun,” you said quietly. “Having bonfires on Ember Island. But we’re sitting on the floor of your closet with an evergreen scented candle.”

“Could be worse,” he answered. “You could be stuck in here with Sokka.”

“And you could be stuck in here with Azula... or Jet!”

“You could be stuck with Momo.”

“But I love Momo.”

“Yeah, but would you want to be stuck inside a closet with Momo?”

“Touché.”

You giggled a little before settling down again. Zuko wrapped one arm around you. With all the frustration the weather of the past week has wrought, the flickering evergreen candle and Zuko’s light embrace was enough to comfort you just a bit. It does not, however, help take away the fact that this is not at all how you expected the summer to go.

“I just wanted us to have a really memorable summer before you graduated. You know, spend time together,” you said. “This weather ruined it.”

Zuko hummed and reached with his free hand to grab hold of yours. His thumb gently ran back and forth over your knuckles. “I wouldn’t say it ruined it.”

“You wouldn’t rather be sitting in the sun on Ember Island?”

“I’m happy just being here with you.”

“Says the guy that tried to kick me out of this hiding spot at first.”

“Hey, I pulled you down here, didn’t I?”

You smiled again and nestled further into his shoulder. In the back of your mind, you wondered why it’s taking Sokka so long to find everyone. After all, hiding in a bedroom closet isn’t one of the most unique spots. And with the light of the candle, it’s sure to be a dead giveaway. Nonetheless, you let yourself relax. You felt Zuko kiss the top of your head, making you remember that your headache had finally subsided.

Just as your eyes were about to close, you heard the door fly open again.

“GOTCHA!” Sokka yelled seemingly at the tops of his lungs. You sat up quickly and threw the Jolly Rancher you had found earlier at his head.

“GO AWAY,” you yelled. You felt Zuko chuckled as you leaned back against him.

“I’m never playing hide and seek with you people again,” Sokka muttered as he ambled away and out of the room. Back and resting comfortably with Zuko, you thought to yourself that maybe losing power and staying in isn’t so bad after all.

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zuko x reader #zuko #sokka #aang #katara #suki #toph #zuko x you #zuko fic #zuko fanfic #gaang #modern!zuko #modern gaang #atla fanfiction #atla fanfic #atla fic

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