#the split second before the lips touch are always my favorite part to analyze like a psycho | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reidamancy · 4 years

Text

too late || spencer reid

summary: Spencer and you never got closure after you broke up. But hidden feelings and confessions reveal themselves when you’ve been abducted. Now Spencer is forced to analyze a voicemail you left for him to try and save you before it’s too late. (spencer reid x fem!reader)

category: angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, kidnapping, knife and gun usage, slight mentions of blood and drugs, plot holes, probably incorrect medical info

word count: 4.4k

a/n: this is my very first cm fic, and I’m completely new to the fandom so I hope there are still people out there who read cm fics lol

MASTERLIST

(part one | part two)

Spencer’s POV

“Spencer?” Her voice breathed shakily through the voicemail.

Y/N. I recognized her voice immediately. For a split second I was filled with bliss just from the sound of her voice, but my heart dropped when I recognized the terror laced in her words.

She paused for a bit before continuing. “Hi, it’s me. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear from me right now,” She choked on a sob, but little did she know that was furthest from the truth. “But I didn’t know who else to call.” Another pause.

I leaned forward in my seat, resting my arms on my desk while listening intently to the message.

“I... I’m in trouble Spencer. I don’t know who he is. He took me from my car and brought me here. He made me call you because he knows,” She took a deep breath before letting out a sob. “He knows you will never save me in time.” By now, her voice came out as a squeak. My breath caught in my throat as my worst nightmare came true.

“No, Spencer, wait, please listen to me.” I shut my eyes and exhaled. I pinched the bridge of my nose; she must have had to pretended I answered the phone, and I wasn’t there when she needed me most.

She sniffled on the phone and continued.

“I don’t know how much time I have left... So I guess this is goodbye Spencer...” I felt my heart shatter as tears pricked my eyes.

“When we met, I knew exactly where I was in life. But you, you changed that. You taught me so much, Spencer. I remember all the games we'd play when you were home.” Y/N paused as she left out a sigh. A sad smile crept on my face as I recalled our shared competitive nature and the countless games that sprung from it. I could only imagine her expression mirroring my own as she spoke. “You'd always win but I guess that's what happens when you play against Dr. Reid. I still think you forgot two dozen names just to let me win.” She let out a dry laugh.

“The last time I saw you was on our anniversary, June 6. 9:30 on the dot. And then you abandoned me Spencer, you left me alone in the big, cold world.” She took a breath and I let out a small gasp when I heard the sound of a gun cocking in the background.

“I told myself I'd never forgive you, but the truth is I already have. I can't leave without you knowing that. Please save me, Spencer.” She whispered the last line before the phone was yanked out of her hands, evident by the small yelp and shuffling I heard, and the voicemail ended with a low growl saying, “You’ll never get here in time.”

The voicemail ended and the fear I felt from before melted into rage. I knew exactly what I had to do. Phone in hand, I marched straight into Hotch’s office.

Reader’s POV

The man snatched the phone out of my hands and quickly hung up on the call before redirecting his gun at me. He had it pointed at me the entire call and cocked it once he was getting impatient.

The worst part was he didn’t bother to hide his face. He had bound my arms and legs together, but never blinded me. I knew exactly where I was and who he was, which only meant one thing: I wasn’t getting out of here alive.

My abductor shot at the ground and I let out a scream. “That was a bit long now, wasn’t it?” He sneered.

“You’re gonna kill me! I had to say goodbye properly!” I sobbed.

It was partly true. What he didn’t know, however, was the fact that I had an FBI agent for an ex-boyfriend, and a genius one at that. I haven’t spoken to him in months, but I prayed that he would understand the hidden clues I left in the voicemail. I hated how this was our first interaction since our breakup, but I needed him now more than ever.

I’ve wanted to call him countless times; it’s almost ironic that it took a literal kidnapping for me to finally do so. In the wake of our breakup, I found myself completely miserable. I missed everything about him, and I caught myself staring at his phone number on my screen numerous times, contemplating if I should actually call him or not. I wanted to, I really wanted to. I wanted to tell him how much I missed his voice, his touch, his love. But every happy memory we had would then be overshadowed by stronger memories of him snapping at me, being repulsed by my touch, and his mood swings. So I never got the courage to push the dial button.

It was a never ending cycle. I’d want to call him; perhaps I wanted to try to fix things one more time. I knew something was wrong, maybe I could have done more to help him. But then I would realize I couldn’t help him unless he let me. So I’d always end up deleting the digits on my screen and hope he was doing okay. But days later I’d find myself punching in those exact digits once again, only to delete them minutes later. In time, I had memorized his number by heart, which is why it was almost instinctive to dial him today.

The fact that he was an FBI agent was the last thing on my mind when I pushed call. I just needed him, I needed Spencer. It felt wrong, after months without speaking I thought we had both moved on. But he was the first person I thought of when given an instrument to cry for help. And as soon as I heard his voicemail, as soon as I heard his voice, I realized I needed more than Dr. Reid. I needed Special Agent Reid.

I tried to remember everything I could from the few times Spencer would talk to me about his cases. If I could understand this unsub like he and his team could, maybe I could survive. But the more I remembered, the quicker I realized my chances of survival were slim. He’s way too confident for me to have been his first victim. He gave me the freedom to call whoever I wanted and say whatever I wanted, and he wouldn’t have done that if he knew he wouldn’t get caught. So the phone call must be part of his signature, but why? Why give that much freedom to his victims at all? Maybe he just likes to hear the pain in our voices when we say goodbye.

No, it has to be more than that. Right before I dialed Spencer, the man told me, “Make sure they answer.” And that’s when it hit me. He must take pleasure in knowing his victim’s loved ones are aware of what’s happening but can’t save them. He’s stripping them of their power to help, to save, their loved ones. I hope that isn’t the case for me. I didn’t want to call Spencer (okay, maybe deep down in my heart, I did), because he made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with me. But if anyone could save me, it was Spencer Reid.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when my abductor leaned in front of me, his putrid breath fanning over my face. I noticed his gun was now in his holster and one of his hands was behind his back. He slowly pulled it out to reveal a knife and he placed the blade against my arm. I winced as he put pressure against my skin, but not enough to draw blood.

“Now that... what was his name? Spencer?” He let out a low chuckle. “Now that Spencer knows you’re here, he’ll try to save you.” The unsub slowly dragged the knife up my arm, still not breaking the skin, and I let out a whimper.

“He’ll tell the police, but they’ll be too late.” He taunted. “They always are.”

The man now used his knife to push hair out of my face. “While we wait... Let’s have some fun.” He sunk the knife into my shoulder and I let out a scream.

Spencer’s POV

As the case was presented to the team, I was paralyzed in my seat with the voicemail replaying over and over again in my head.

It’s me. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear from me right now.

I’ve been wanting to hear her voice for months, and when I finally do it’s because she was abducted. Even worse, she’s apologetic that she even has to call me. As if she’d ever have to apologize for speaking to me...

“Reid?” Hotch’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I looked up at him and he repeated himself. “Will you analyze the voicemail for clues on Y/N’s location?”

I silently nodded. He turned to JJ and whispered to her to stay with me. Everyone then dispersed to do everything they could to bring Y/N back.

“Kid, who is this?” Morgan stayed behind and questioned me.

“Hm?” I questioned innocently.

“Look, she could have called anyone in the world, but she called you. And you obviously care for her or else you wouldn’t be so quiet right now. So who is she?” Derek displayed concern in his eyes.

I let out a sigh. JJ took a seat in front of me and Morgan leaned against the table. My eyes were fixated on my hands, which were in my lap. “Her name’s Y/N. She was the one who got away.” I heard my voice crack, but I didn’t care. JJ and Morgan looked at me with sorrow as they listened to me open up about the love of my life.

“I met her at the library. She saw I was checking out a book about physics and she gushed about how it was her favorite subject. We went on for 20 minutes talking about the subject, and then she asked me out for coffee.” I bit my lip.

“We started dating for a few months and everything was perfect. She didn’t mind my work schedule, and she listened to all my rambles. Sometimes she even had some facts of her own to add.” I recalled all the times Y/N would add to my fact spews instead of shutting me down, and I couldn’t stop the smile resulted from the memories. “She was perfect. In every way.”

I took a deep breath as my love story took a sour turn. “But then I... I started to push her away. After Tobias Hankel I pushed everyone away, but Y/N got it the worst. I was a horrible boyfriend, but she never gave up on me. She never knew why I was acting that way, but eventually I pushed her too far. We broke up because she thought I hated her. But I don’t. I never did.” I trailed off, remembering fragments of the last fight we had. I cringed as I remembered how broken her voice was, and how I continued to tear her down. I wasn’t in my right mind. If I could go back, I’d never let her leave that door. But in hindsight, I don’t blame her for leaving.

I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks as Morgan rubbed my shoulder. JJ got up and hugged me. She lowered her face towards me and said, “We’re gonna save her, Spence. And when we do, you’re gonna tell her all of this.” She flashed me a kind smile.

“After I got off dilaudid, I realized I lost her, so I tried to get her back. I wanted to surprise her, so I went to the cafe we went to the day we met, and I saw her there. She was there with another guy... She had already moved on and I was too late. I never got to apologize to her.”

I didn't want to meddle in Y/N's new relationship. She had every right to move on. So I tried to as well. But it didn't hurt any less, especially since I never got to explain myself to her. I had accepted the fact that Y/N had moved on from me, but her voicemail gave me an ounce of hope. In the direst of circumstances I was the one she called. Perhaps it was because of my job, but I let myself hope that maybe I misread the situation. That man could have been a friend. And I could still have a chance.

But hope is a dangerous thing.

“Reid, I know this is hard. We all want to get Y/N back safe, but you’re the only one who can understand what she’s trying to tell us here. Think you can focus?” Morgan wanted to make sure my head was clear enough to analyze Y/N’s message. The truth was, I wasn’t sure.

But I nodded and played the voicemail again.

“June 6?” I repeated once the voicemail ended.

“Is that when the two of you met?” Morgan asked.

“No, that date doesn’t have any significance to us at all. June 6, 9:30? Why would she say that?” I wondered out loud as I wrote 6/6, 9:30 on the board.

“Can you play it again?” I asked JJ.

When we met, I knew exactly where I was in life.

“There right there, pause.” I knew that was a lie. “When we met, she was a graduate student but she didn’t know what to study. I helped her with that.”

“Okay, so she knows you can catch onto her lies. What is she trying to tell us?” JJ wondered out loud.

It was then that I realized what Y/N was doing. “This entire call is full of lies. She knew I’d catch onto them, but I don’t know what she’s saying.”

Morgan jumped in, “Okay, so if you catch all of her lies, we’ll decode the message.” I nodded as JJ pressed play and I wrote down all the lies in the voicemail.

By the end of the call, my board looked like this:

6/6, 9:30

“knew where I was in life”

winning game - 2 dozen names?

“Okay, so what does this all mean, Reid?” Morgan asked.

I stared at the board, trying to make a connection. “I don’t know...” I mumbled. I knew Y/N was trying to tell me something, and if I could figure it out I could save her. The thought gave me enough confidence to analyze her diction. “But did you hear the end of the call? She said I left her alone in the ‘big, cold world.’ It’s odd that she would describe it like that.”

“So she’s somewhere big and cold?” JJ chimed in.

“Probably...” I answered as I added to the board.

“What about abandoned? Is that describing where she is or is this actually about your relationship?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t think she would use 'abandoned' to describe our relationship...” I bit my lip. I wouldn’t say I abandoned her, but I couldn’t help but wonder if that was how she actually felt. I cleared my throat. “That’s probably where she is. Big, cold, and abandoned.”

“So what are we thinking, warehouse?” JJ inputted.

Morgan nodded. “Okay, we’re getting somewhere. So does that mean when she said she knew exactly where she was in life, she meant she actually knew exactly where she was taken?”

“What about the game she talked about? What does that mean?” JJ asked.

“I never let her win any games, she insisted we both play fair and square.” I tried to think back to all the games we played. “She mentioned names... There was only one where we used names,” I held back a smile. “We were trying to see who would be the first to name all the U.S. presidents.”

Morgan and JJ looked at each other. “Why am I not surprised.” Morgan let out a small chuckle.

“But you forgot two dozen names?” JJ questioned.

“Two dozen is specific... and Reid doesn’t forget.” Morgan thought out loud.

I tried to remember more about the game. “I won that game. I was the first to put down my pencil and she teased me for it. But she wanted to finish her list so I’d give her clues to who she forgot... But there was one name she just couldn’t remember.”

“Two dozen... Did it happen to be the 24th president?” JJ wondered.

I let out a small smile. Clever girl. “Yeah, it was Grover Cleveland. The 24th president.”

I now looked at my new board, filled with new information.

6/6, 9:30

“knew where I was in life” am

winning game - 2 dozen names? ➝ Cleveland!

big, cold

abandoned

warehouse?

My head was swirling, trying to make sense of what Y/N gave me. My eyes darted up and down the board, trying to see her message. She knew where she was. She gave me a name, numbers...

“I got it!” I yelled. “It’s an address. She knew exactly where she was and she was trying to tell us! June 6, 9:30? 66930. Where’s Garcia? I bet there’s an abandoned building at 66930 Cleveland Street.”

Morgan raced out of the room to grab Garcia. Moments later she rushed into the room with her laptop and I hurriedly asked her, “Garcia, what is at 66930 Cleveland Street?”

Her fingers blazed across the keyboard then she shook her head. “No, I can’t find that address.”

JJ leaned towards the monitor. “Try Cleveland Road?”

Garcia shook her head once again, “Sorry my sweets, there’s no 66930 Cleveland Road either.”

She continued to clack at her keyboard, and moments later she lit up and said, “Wait, I see an abandoned warehouse at 6693 Cleveland Road!”

“It was probably easier for Y/N to use time to disguise the numbers, even if it added another digit...” I thought out loud.

Morgan rushed over to her computer as I felt my body fill up with hope. “What can you tell us about it, baby girl?” He asked.

“It was previously owned by a man named Hubert Roffkins, but then the trail ends 2 months ago. It looks like it was abandoned then, and oh dear.”

“What is it?” Morgan pushed.

“Hotch asked me to look into similar abductions with phone calls ending with murder.”

I swallowed harshly. “And?” I asked.

“The dates coincide with the first kidnapping.”

“Let’s go.” Morgan commanded.

Third Person POV

Hubert Roffkins had stabbed Y/N for the seventh time by the time the FBI got to the scene. He was cornered and surrounded by agents, he knew there was no way out of this. As he reached for his gun, Agent Hotchner fired a single shot to the head and Roffkins was dead before he hit the ground.

Y/N was still conscious when the agents came. She was surrounded by her own blood and dizzy with pain, but she knew once she saw those FBI vests, she’d be okay. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she heard a gunshot and saw a pair of converse running towards her. Her vision was blurring, but she didn’t need it to identify the figure who picked her up off the ground and held her face. He kept telling her to stay with him, but she couldn’t hear him. Her vision focused on his face for one second and she smiled at the familiar face. “Spencer,” she whispered, so faint he could barely hear her.

“I’m here, Y/N, I’m here.” He cried, holding her closer to him.

Her vision blurred once more and she let the darkness succumb her.

Spencer rode in the ambulance with her, and he would not let go of her hand the entire way to the hospital. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, wondering what could have been if he’d arrived just a few moments earlier.

Once in the hospital, it took an army of nurses to separate Spencer from Y/N. He couldn’t let her out of his sight, too scared of losing her again. So he settled on sitting outside her room while the doctors operated on her.

The rest of the BAU team met him at the hospital. They exchanged glances and sighs, unable to help their youngest teammate. No matter how they tried to comfort him, his mind was fixated on the well-being of his lost love.

The doctor emerged from Y/N’s room and Spencer immediately sat up.

“Her vitals are stable and he missed the major organs. She will be incredibly sore, but she’s gonna make it.” The doctor announced.

Spencer smiled. “Can I see her?” He asked.

The doctor nodded, warning him that she was still sleeping and she will be very tired.

Spencer walked into the room and sighed. He hated seeing her like this. She was pale, and she looked so fragile. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and hold her forever.

He took a seat next to her bed and grabbed her hand. His thumb traced small circles on the back of her hand while he studied her face. Finally, after months of being apart, he was finally here with her. He was both relieved and terrified, knowing that once she woke up, she would have his entire heart in her hands.

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, his voice coming out broken. He cleared his throat and continued.

“I uh, I got your voicemail.” His voice cracked and he let out a sad smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But you did so good. I understood, Y/N. I remembered everything.” His voice cracked and tears were welling up in his eyes, but he continued. “You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.” His voice was now barely above a whisper.

Spencer stopped for a moment to compose himself. It was the moment he had been waiting for. Y/N was right in front of him and all of his emotions were overwhelming. He had to tell her right now. Even if she couldn’t hear him; he needed the practice. Because the words have been bottled up for so long, and now that she was right in front of him, he felt like he was going to burst. But he just didn’t know where to start.

“Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I really need to tell you something, and I can’t wait any longer.” Spencer let out a sigh and stared at her hand in his. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for months, and I-I need to let the words out before I lose my confidence.” Spencer swallowed thickly. “Or I don’t know, maybe you can hear me. Studies have shown that...” He trailed off. He was rambling.

Spencer let out a deep sigh and brought his eyes back to Y/N’s face. “Y/N... You were the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I can’t believe I let you go.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “You were right, you know. Something did happen to me on a case. But I didn’t want to bring you into the evil that corrupts my world, so I kept you in the dark. But then it got out of hand... It became less about shielding you and more about protecting myself.” Spencer licked his lips and lowered his eyes again. He felt ashamed. Had it not been for his own pride, perhaps Y/N would still be in his life. Maybe he could have even prevented this. But he let out a shaky breath and continued.

“I was abducted and tortured by a man named Tobias Hankel. He had multiple personalities. So when he wasn’t torturing me, he was giving me painkillers. It was dilaudid.” Spencer shook his head as the memories of his abduction came back to him.

“I... I became addicted, Y/N. I knew I needed help. But I wanted to prove I was strong. I wanted to prove that I could bounce back and show that I could handle it. But I couldn’t.” By now, the young doctor was crying. He continued through his sobs. “I guess I... I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it on my own, so I pushed everyone away, Y/N. Not just you. And I know that doesn’t make it better, but you were never the problem, Y/N. It was me.”

Spencer looked at Y/N’s face and rubbed circles on her hand. “I know there’s no way you could have known that, but I don’t want you blaming yourself for what happened between us. And I know what you would say if you were awake right now. I know what I did was wrong. I realized that you would never see me as weak for this, but in that moment I've never felt so weak. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Hot tears streamed down the Spencer’s face as he continued. “I’ve been sober for half a year now. I’ve been sober ever since we broke up. And I know drugs don’t excuse how I acted towards you, but I just needed you to know,” Spencer held onto Y/N’s hand tighter. “I never stopped loving you.”

As the young doctor spilled his heart out to his love, the words he spoke never reached their recipient. Y/N laid in deep slumber, unaware of Spencer’s confession as he sat next to her. She would stay in her comatose-like condition until the next day, never to hear the truth behind the end of her and Spencer’s relationship.

Because when Y/N awoke, Spencer had gone to get his morning cup of coffee from the hospital’s cafeteria. He had spent the entire night sleeping by her side, desperate to be the first person she saw when she woke up. By the time he returned, fits of giggles were emerging from Y/N’s room.

Spencer’s heart fluttered as he heard her laughter echo in his ears. She was finally awake, and he could finally get his confession off his conscience. All he had to do was repeat the words he had said the night before, this time to active ears.

But the words were caught in his throat once more, because when Spencer entered Y/N’s room, he was met with two sets of eyes instead of one. Y/N had lit up and exclaimed, “There’s the man who saved my life!” Her excitement and smile still brought butterflies to Spencer’s stomach. But they quickly disappeared when she spoke her next sentence, confirming Spencer’s fears.

“Spencer, I want you to meet Connor. My boyfriend.” She gestured to the man sitting next to her. Spencer had recognized him immediately, he was the man he saw Y/N with at the cafe.

Spencer’s stomach dropped and his heart broke once again.

He was too late.

---

read part two here!

3K notes · View notes

obxsummer · 4 years

Text

Who You Are // JJ Maybank

word count: 2.2k

pairing: jj maybank x reader

warnings: insecurities about body image, mentions of anxiety and depression (*if anyone ever needs to talk about anything, please don’t hesitate to send me a message or anon. i promise i’m not here to judge. i’ll help as best as i can*)

summary: JJ finds you deep in your head on a particularly bad day but he has zero hesitation to let you know how much he loves you.

a/n: sorry, i had to bust this out because i’m really stuck in my head tonight and needed some comfort from jj. this is written based off my opinions on my weight and how i function with it, so i’m sorry if it’s not super relatable. it’s based off the song Who You Are covered by Anna Clendening. i hope you guys still enjoy :)

masterlist

ask me anything

JJ understood every little thing about you. He knew your pet peeves and your favorite things, anything that was subtle and almost invisible to anyone, JJ knew it. That was the outcome of years of friendship into a relationship, and he was just so in love with you that he needed to know these things about you.

The day started off okay. You had been woken up by the sound of birds outside, which wasn’t awful, but you couldn’t fall back asleep afterwards which meant you were a little tired. You ate a good breakfast, had a little bit of alone time until your friends called to head to the beach, but overall, it was reasonable.

The first issue came with getting ready. Since the whole group had crashed at John B’s house as usual, you didn’t pack a swimsuit to bring. Kiara had packed an extra one that you managed to wiggle into. The mirror was your enemy though.

You didn’t consider yourself skinny. Even as a younger kid, you were on the heavier side and as you grew up, your height helped, but you still weren’t in a single digit size. Honestly, depending on the day, you could pull off looking smaller depending on what you wore. You were curvy, but you certainly didn’t have Kiara’s small waist to narrow yourself out as you stared in the glass reflection. You still had stomach rolls when you sat down and you constantly tugged your clothes to make sure no skin was visible.

“She’s not stronger than me, she’s just fatter than me.”

Today just wasn’t the day to be wearing a bikini to the beach, especially with your boyfriend and close friends. You just weren’t feeling it. You tried adjusting the fabric to cover more skin since you usually hid in high-waisted bottoms, but Kiara’s low-cut cheeky style wasn’t giving you any help. With a sigh, you tugged an oversized shirt on to cover up for the time being and blinked away the tears that had formed before walking out with a smile.

“Hi, baby,” JJ greeted as you walked towards him, bag in hand with a towel in your other arm. You gave him a smile in greeting as you slid your sunglasses on, not wanting him to see the redness in your eyes from your small breakdown. “You okay?” He asked as you sat next to him.

You nodded. “I’m fine,” You tried to muster emotion into your voice so he wouldn’t notice a difference, but JJ always did. He always noticed. Leaving it alone, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side while you waited for the rest of your friends to join.

After a few brief minutes, you were walking down to the sandy beach with a cooler in tow while John B played music through Kiara’s speaker. You moved your towel so it was flat on the sand, knowing you would possibly look smaller if you laid completely down instead of sitting.

“Babe, do you want a chair?” JJ asked as he set the two he was carrying on the ground.

You shook your head. “No, I’m going to try and tan my back first.” Of course, it was a lie, but he accepted it as an answer, still watching you closely. As much as you wished you could keep your shirt on, you didn’t want the goofy tan lines or plethora of questions that would come with it. You waited until the rest of your friends piled into the ocean before pulling your shirt over your head, practically running towards your towel to lay down.

“She’s stronger and fatter than you.”

JJ watched you with curious eyes as you adjusted your suit again after laying down. He knew you were always insecure about the way your body looked and he always tried to remind you of how perfect you were, no matter what the number on the scale said or the size of the clothing you wore, but it was so much harder said than done.

“You’re beautiful,” He mumbled as he crouched down to kiss your forehead gently. “Please don’t forget that. I’ll be in the water if you need me.”

Tears burned your eyes as you watched him run away, part of you wishing he didn’t know you so well. Some days were just like this. Everything could be going perfect but one thing went wrong and you couldn’t get your head out of it.

Eventually, the sun was going down and the air was cool as Pope started up a fire for you guys. You had pulled your t-shirt back on and sat on your towel with your hands behind you to hold you up. Kiara was strumming on her ukelele while John B told some outrageous story about his surf adventures he had the other day.

JJ walked away from the cooler with two drinks in his hands. He didn’t hesitate to sit behind you on the towel, grabbing your arms so you leaned back against him as you sat in his lap. The second his arms went around your waist, however, you panicked and sucked your stomach in as far as you could.

“Your jeans look too small.”

The action didn’t go unnoticed by JJ, who instantly looked down at you in concern. He hugged you tightly, his lips pressing a kiss against your hair. He hated the fact that you were reacting this way to his touch, but he knew he couldn’t say anything until you were alone.

“I grabbed you a drink,” The blond boy mumbled as he moved to hand the alcoholic beverage to you.

You shook your head slightly, not taking it from him. Your mind had instantly switched to counting numbers: calories, sugar, carbs, any of it, all of it added up. “I’m good. Need to drink more water anyways. Thanks, bub.”

You continued to lay in JJ’s arms as you scrolled through your phone. You flew past the collection of pictures on Instagram from Sarah Cameron, only pausing to look at what Kiara had posted. JJ watched silently from your shoulder as you zoomed in on your body in the photo, analyzing every detail before looking at Kiara’s, no doubt comparing yourself silently. It only progressed when you switched to Pinterest, adding countless exercise routines and dieting ideas to a secret board once you grew bored.

“Alright, I’m going to call it a night.” You clicked your phone off and sat up. Whatever previous conversation had been going on quickly ended as your friend looked at you. You gave them a smile and grabbed the extra chairs, leaving JJ to man the towel by himself. “I’ll see you guys up there.”

“Are those new stretch marks?”

Goodbyes followed your statement as you disappeared up the sand. John B was turning to JJ in a split second once you were out of ear. “Is she okay?” He asked in concern.

JJ shook his head, wanting to go after you but knowing you would just tell him you needed some time alone. “No. No, I don’t think so, but I know whatever I say won’t make a difference. She’s so broken, you guys. It hurts me to watch her pick herself apart like this and compare herself to everyone else.”

“Is this about the swimsuit?” Kiara asked, to which JJ nodded. “I felt bad. I could tell when I handed it to her that she wasn’t down with the idea.” Kiara knew that you could pick out every single thing you thought was wrong once you were in the headspace for it. She hated the fact that you compare yourself to her, especially when she herself wished she was different. Nobody was perfect.

“I’m going to go check on her. Don’t wait up.”

Inside John B’s house, you had showered quickly before changing into your comfiest sweatpants and a giant t-shirt, wanting nothing more than to hide in your baggy clothes and try to sleep. It didn’t seem to work as the moment you climbed in bed, your mind got too loud and you couldn’t stop the tears from pouring from your eyes.

“You need a bigger size.”

“You have to stop eating.”

“It only gets worse from here.”

“What went wrong?”

“Guys don’t like girls that are fat.”

“It barely fits.”

“You’re never going to get married if you look like that.”

Not good enough.

Your fingers dug into your skin, your mind getting too far ahead of you as your hearing disappeared minus the sound of your ragged breathing. Your chest was tight but you could barely feel anything around you as you kicked at the sheets, digging your head into your pillow.

“Hey, hey, hey. Come on. Come here. You’re okay.” You knew it was JJ. His hands were gently as he shifted you into his lap, holding you tightly. He pressed your hand to his chest, cradling you softly. “Breathe with me. I’m right here. It’s just us. I’ve got you.”

JJ continued to count with you, waiting until you were breathing normally despite the heart-wrenching sobs escaping your throat. You shook your head as you calmed down. You loved him. You loved him more than anything, but he deserved someone so much better. Someone like Kiara who would look beautiful even when she was sick or hungover or just got out of bed. Someone like Sarah who could fit into anything you threw at her, who still looked skinny despite being in a giant sweatshirt. It wasn’t fair.

“Talk to me,” JJ whispered once you had regained enough control to slow your breathing down. “What’s going on in your head, baby?”

You clenched your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him as you explained. “It’s just really hard, you know? It’s hard to get up every day and hate my body and hate the way I look. It’s awful. I don’t have the motivation to fix it because I know I’ll never win. I look at people like Kiara and Sarah and just wonder where I went wrong? Why don’t I look like them?

“And I wonder why you’re still with me, even when I can’t fit in your clothes or-or you can’t pick me up and carry me? A-And there’s so many other girls out there that can look ways and do things that I can’t, and it-it’s not-”

JJ shushed you as you cried harder, clutching onto him like he would disappear if you let go. His own eyes burned with salty tears at your words. He hated that you felt this way. “Y/N, look at me.” You ignored his request until he moved your face to look at him. “You are absolutely beautiful. You’re perfect in your own way. You don’t have to have a tiny waist or small thighs to be pretty. You’re not Kiara, you’re not Sarah. You’re Y/N. That’s who you are, that’s the girl I fell in love with. You shouldn’t look like them. You should look like you. If you want to change any part of you, it should be on your own terms, not because you want to please the world around you.”

He kissed your forehead, holding you impossibly tighter as the two of you rocked back and forth. “Babygirl, I don’t want them. I want you. I want the girl who laughs at my stupid jokes and craves my attention. I want the girl who hugs me nonstop just to remind me that she loves me, or the girl who sends me morning text messages even if she’s laying right next to me. That’s you. That will always be you. No matter what. Although, if you stopped sharing your ice cream with me, we might have a problem.”

You laughed slightly as you leaned against his chest. Even when dealing with the darkest parts of your mind, he still knew how to make you laugh.

JJ pulled on the waistband of your sweatpants slightly before you lifted your hips, letting him pull the item from your body, leaving you in your underwear. His hands wandered to your t-shirt, sliding the fabric from your waist slightly. You froze instantly, sucking in your stomach like you did before. “Don’t do that,” JJ mumbled as he kissed you softly. “Don’t hide from me.” He didn’t push your limits though and left your shirt alone, simply tracing circles in the bare skin that was visible.

“And you’re wrong,” He said after a moment of silence. “You’re so wrong.”

You were confused as he moved to stand up and went over to the dresser in the spare room. He shuffled around for a bit before pulling out an orange hoodie. You let him pull it over your head and down your torso, the fabric warming you up. It wasn’t your clothing, it was his. His favorite sweatshirt to be exact and it smelled just like him.

Climbing into bed, JJ tugged you under the covers and pulled you to lay your head on his chest, legs intertwined as he rubbed your back. He wanted you to feel safe, and loved, and appreciated. “You’re my girl. Every inch, curve, scar, freckle of you, I love. Don’t forget that.”

“And if you ever need a reminder on how beautiful you are, I’ll make sure to tell you every single morning and every single night but even then, it wouldn’t be enough to show you how perfect you are to me.”

879 notes · View notes

mxndoscyarika · 4 years

Text

Red Sunsets (Javier Peña x Chinese!reader) | Chapter 8: El Punto de Sucumbir

Author’s note: I don’t wanna give toooooo much away, but I just wanted to let you know that we’ve finally reached lucky number 8 👀 If you were here a couple nights ago, you proooobably have an idea of what’s going to happen, because I had asked a few questions related to ~kisses~, if you catch my drift. Let me know what you guys think!

Summary: Family fights, grudges, and determination. Those three things defined your journey as you navigated through the workings of the DEA. Getting in was hard, and catching Escobar was even harder. You joined Javier Peña and Steve Murphy in the hunt for Escobar, forming bonds and life lessons along the way.

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Red Sunsets masterlist

Warning(s): food, Careless Whisper lol, physical affection, implied smut

“So where are you taking me, again?” you asked, looking out at the passing buildings. You didn’t recognize the shops and restaurants you’d passed. The sky was darkened to a royal blue, the last rays of sunlight already well below the horizon.

“One of my personal favorite restaurants in Colombia,” he answered. “They have good arepas, your favorite, and the owners are pretty friendly. I used to go there often before you came along.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “What happened after I arrived that made you forego your favorite restaurant?”

Shrugging, he said, “I guess you happened.” He scoffed at your pout. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You’re worth all the arepas in the world.”

You were thankful for the shroud of darkness, because you felt your cheeks grow hot and you bit your lip to contain your grin. “And you’re worth all the homemade dumplings.”

Javi chuckled softly, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. As usual, you had the perfect response. He could barely remember a time when he truly cared about flirting, or how the women of his affections responded. But somehow, every time, you managed to turn his tactics around on him.

It took every ounce of self control to keep his eyes on the road and his hands to himself. You wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, and what little makeup you applied only served to make your cheeks and lips look unbearably kissable.

He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the wheel. More times than he wanted to admit, he’s caught himself reaching to hold your hand or rest his hand on your thigh. Thankfully, it was dark enough that you probably hadn’t noticed. As much as he hated to acknowledge it, you weren’t his. He hadn’t even worked up the guts to tell you how he felt yet.

“Hola Javier!” the owner greeted, her face lighting up. She wiped her hands on her apron and waved for him to sit down at a table. “Hace mucho tiempo que no nos vemos. Quién es ella, tu novia?”

Javi blushed, smiling sheepishly. While he couldn’t understand what Chinese shop owners said, you could understand Spanish as well as he did. “No no no, ella es una amiga. Nos conocemos del trabajo.”

The owner of the restaurant simply hummed in response and eyed you from head to toe, much like how a parent may analyze a prom date. “Pues, no te molestaré, okey? Cuéntame si necesitas algo.”

More than accustomed to eating family-style, you and Javi ordered a couple of the smaller entrees and a flan to share. Much like how Javi let you take the reins in local Chinese restaurants, you let him order the food and make small talk. You propped your head up against your hand as you watched him, a small smile perpetually on your lips.

The low moan that left your lips when you bit into a cheesy arepa was music to his ears. He wondered if you’d sound like that when you were kissed. Only when your eyes met did his train of thought come to a screeching halt.

Fighting back a blush, he busied himself with splitting an arepa stuffed with meat, beans, and cheese and sliding the plate over. You tried not to think about how he was so gentle. “Try this one, hermosa. I think you’ll like it.”

“You’re a man aiming for my heart,” you hummed. In your past relationships, you never had anyone treat you the way Javi did with his genuine eagerness. Not that you and he were on a date, you’d never called it that, but you couldn’t help but draw the comparison. You lifted the half that he offered and took a big bite, giggling when the grated cheese stuck to your cheek.

“You have a little bit of….” Laughing softly at your plight, he reached over and brushed it off with his thumb, the pad of his finger caressing your cheek. You fought the urge to lean into his touch and nuzzle your face into the palm of his hand. Javi was just being polite, right? It didn’t mean anything.

Javi drew his hand away and glanced down at his watch. “The movie should be starting in about 45 minutes, let’s start finishing up here and then head over to the movie theater.” He paused, then added, “Unless you feel like going home for a night in?”

“What’ll we do at home?” you wondered, wiping your hands with a napkin. “I’d love to have a night in, if that’s what you want. As long as I’m with you, I really don’t care.”

His heart skipped a beat at your words, though the logical part of his mind stamped down any hope he had. Was he just a friend that you wanted around because you were lonely? It’d been a long time since his last serious relationship, but he couldn’t imagine diving back in with anyone else. He just hoped you felt the same. “We could just relax, maybe turn on some music and just talk.”

“I never knew that Javier Peña would be one to ‘just talk,’” you quipped, smiling at him.

“I can be, with the right person.” He shrugged, picking up the singular spoon and scooping up a bite of the flan. Its amber caramel sauce glistened in the restaurant’s warm lighting. Smiling softly, he held it up to your lips. “First bite is yours, hermosa.”

Taking turns eating spoonfuls of flan, you talked about things ranging from family to favorite animals. Growing up on a ranch, Javi’s favorite animal was a horse, sparking your questions about his life back in the States. You only knew the little bits of information floating around the DEA headquarters, and you wanted to know more.

At first he was hesitant, but then he told you about his father and how he’d grown up in a small town. You listened quietly as he told you about Lorraine, and how they were engaged to be married over a decade ago. His voice grew soft as he recalled all the wedding planning and shopping they did, and how their families had all converged to help out. Apparently, they’d been the talk of the town. It made you wonder if he ever missed her, or at least missed Laredo.

It was no secret that you’d come from an immigrant family, one rooted in traditions both good and bad. Well, good and bad by American standards, of course. You couldn’t deny that your parents had noticeably different views from the parents of your friends, nor could you deny that it gave you a window to your family’s heritage. No culture was perfect, free of discrimination, but you could always learn from it. All you could hope was that you weren’t too damaged or different to be with him.

“Is this how you get all your women to go home with you?” you teased, swirling the spoon in the pool of caramel. “You buy them dinner and feed them dessert before sweeping them off their feet?”

Javi shook his head. “Just you,” he replied, his voice like velvet. Shivers ran down your spine at the implication.

---

The drive back home was quiet, the two of you donning faint smiles in the darkness. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said throughout dinner, the sweet words and touches. It was a different man sitting across from you, one that you normally only saw glimpses of previously.

You bit your lip and looked out the window at the passing buildings, hoping the cool night air would soothe the burning in your cheeks. What did his words mean? Why did he seem so embarrassed when the restaurant lady asked if you were his girlfriend? Were you truly just a work friend to him? If you were, why did he look at you like you hung the stars in the night sky? Why did he watch you with those dark brown puppy eyes that made your insides melt?

“We’re home, hermosa.” Javi’s voice interrupted your chain of thought as he pulled up to the apartment building. Before you could finish unbuckling your seat belt, he was opening the car door for you.

It felt like second nature to walk over to his front door and wait for him to unlock it. But something about it felt different this time, like it was more than just a friendly hangout on a weekend evening.

While Javi turned on a couple lights, you made your way over to his record player and flipped through his various vinyls. “Any music preference tonight?”

He flicked on a lamp. “Anything is fine, Y/N. Your pick.”

The sound of a familiar saxophone blared out from the record player, making him freeze.

You laughed at his startled expression and stopped the music before switching out the George Michael record for Foreigner. “Except this one? Don’t worry, Javi, I know what you like.”

Shaking his head fondly, he sat down on the couch next to you and watched as you scooted closer to rest your head on his shoulder. The lyrics of I Want to Know What Love Is filled the air as you basked in each other’s presence.

“What do you think you’ll do once we catch Escobar?” you asked. Realizing you just brought up work on a weekend, you cringed. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

Sighing, Javi shifted and replied, “I don’t know. I didn’t exactly let myself leave much behind in Laredo.”

“You have your father and your family ranch,” you suggested, playing with the blanket you’d draped over yourself. “And I’m sure you could find someone to be your sweetheart in the States. After all, you’ll be the man who took down Pablo Escobar.”

“And what about you?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. He tried not to dwell too long on your assumption that he’d want to be with someone from Laredo when he could be with you. “What will the magnificent Y/N L/N do once this is all over?”

You shrugged. “I guess I’ll continue my work in the States. Maybe set up a research lab of my own to study other drugs. And maybe I’ll stop by my parents’ house and see if they’ve forgiven me.”

“Well, if you ever need somebody to tell them how great you are, you know where to find me,” he said, smiling shyly. You felt warm as he continued, “You’re an amazing agent, and an even better friend. Anyone who doesn’t see that can fuck off, in my book.”

You laughed softly at his boldness, even if you knew him well enough that he wouldn’t insult your parents to their face. It was the thought that mattered.

But as you sat there, your hand resting in his and your cheek on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but wish that you could stay like that forever. The early morning drive to work with Javi, the casual lunch breaks, dinners, and late nights all made you wish you were together. You rarely felt like you belonged anywhere, but in his apartment? In his car? His bedroom? You felt safer than you ever did back in your hometown.

“Thank you, Javi,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the music.

“For what?”

For being there for me, you wanted to say. For seeing the best and worst parts of me without shying away. For making my coffee just the way I like it every day in the office. For staying with me after I woke up in the hospital. For having my back out on raids, and checking my vest to make sure I didn’t forget anything. For listening to me when I go off on tangents about my culture.

“Everything,” you answered softly. “For putting up with me, I guess.”

A smile graced your lips as he slipped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Anything for you, mi amor.”

You furrowed your brow and looked up at him from your slouched position. “What did you call me?”

His soft brown eyes met yours, the outer corners crinkled just slightly as he gazed at you. You hadn’t realized how close you were until you could feel his warm breath against your nose. Your eyes trailed from his beautiful eyes down the curve of his nose to his plush lips. Up close, you could see the small crease in the center; it was as if he were perpetually pouting.

“Mi amor?”

Unable to resist the magnetic pull any longer, you and Javi met in the middle. Your lips slotted against each other, a soft sound escaping you as he cupped your cheek and kissed you fervently. His lips were softer than you’d imagined, his mustache tickled your upper lip. You could kiss him all night, if he let you.

Warmth bloomed in your chest as you moved to straddle his legs, hands wandering up from his chest to play with his brown locks. You’d always wondered what it would feel like to run your fingers through it, drawing soft groans from the man beneath you. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as you pressed yourself against him.

His arms wrapped around and held you close, the weight of his hand settling on your upper back. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. You gave him one last kiss before pulling away for air, your noses brushing against each other. Smiling, you gave him a peck on the tip of his nose.

“Do you want to stay?” Javi asked, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes searched yours for any sign of regret, of realizing that you’d made a big mistake.

You nodded and leaned in to press your lips to the crease between his brows. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me, cariño.”

He hummed softly against your neck, nuzzling his nose against your pulse point. “Is it too late to tell you that I really like you?”

“Maybe,” you replied, sighing as he sucked lightly at your skin. If he left a mark, Murphy would never let you live it down. But somehow, you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, making it stick up in some places. “But I’d rather you show me instead.”

The walk to his room was well-practiced from your days living with him, but knowing that he was following you made a shiver run down your spine. Everything about his bedroom was familiar, yet new. You wondered if you were dreaming, if this was just another cruel figment of your imagination after a long day of work.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to,” Javi said, wrapping his arms around you from behind when you stopped at the foot of the bed. Your hands covered his, caressing his knuckles. “We could always wait.”

“I don’t want to wait.” You turned around and pulled him into a deep kiss, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest. “I want you, Javi.”

Translations:

“Hola Javier! Hace mucho tiempo que no nos vemos. Quién es ella, tu novia?” Hello Javier! It’s been a long time. Who is this, your girlfriend?

“No no no, ella es una amiga. Nos conocemos del trabajo.” No no no, she’s a friend. We know each other from work.

“Pues, no te molestaré, okey? Cuéntame si necesitas algo.” Well, I won’t bother you, ok? Let me know if you need anything.

“Hermosa” Beautiful

“Cariño” Sweetheart/darling

“Mi amor” My love

Tagging:

Permanent taglist: @cinewhore @randomness501 @pedropascalisadilf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @catfishingmorales @halfwaythereroyal @fioccodineveautunnale @talesfromtheguild @tortles @ladamari68 @theokatcov @snivellusim @starryluce @inked-poet @this-cat-is-dea @shewritesandplants @chews-erotically @thefandomimagines @emesispo @mindless--ramblings

Red Sunsets taglist: @engineeredfiction @reylo-hope @yespolkadotkitty @geistbuster @far-too-tired-to-exist @faiinal @promiscuoussatan @thewaythisis @earl-01 @honestlystop @chaotic-noceur

Let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist!

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro character fanfiction #my writing

72 notes · View notes

goroakechioneshots · 4 years

Text

Maybe One Day (Goro Akechi x Reader): Affection… such things had ultimately been denied to Goro Akechi throughout the entirety of his childhood, and so he found it an unnecessary hassle to give such treatment to others. Outside his usual ‘detective prince’ mannerisms, he simply didn’t associate himself with people if it could be helped. All his pining fangirls were turned down. Gently, of course, because it would ruin the spotless reputation he’d fought so hard to build up if he met their constant confessions and flirtatious advances with hostility.

And then there was you…

At first, he assumed you would be no different to the masses he’d charmed before. However, his detective prince facade fell flat in your eyes. Not to say that you had rudely dismissed him, but there was a certain lack of interest in your gaze when he was around. He couldn’t help but wonder why that was. Everyone was on a mission to appease him; his classmates, his teachers, his fangirls, the media… But you treated him like just another person. Then again, Akechi didn’t mull over this at first. It wasn’t too weird that one person out of hundreds didn’t seem to care when they were talking to a celebrity. There were more important things to focus on, and so these brief thoughts faded into the background for a while.

That is, until you were both assigned on a group project together.

Goro was grateful that the teacher had assigned the groups herself, because whenever a project came up he was always swarmed with other students hoping to partner with him. Not because he was smart, but just so they could brag to people or make it out as though they were friends. It was a real hassle, and Akechi would end up lowkey begging the teacher to let him work alone. Which, of course, would wind up piling more work onto the strenuous detective duties he already took on.

After the bell rang, he approached you. Admittedly, with some apprehension. Even though you had shown little to no interest in him or his detective role in the past, it was hard to shake the inkling that people only cared about being around him for his status.

“Ah! LastName-san…? I believe we were assigned to work on the history project together.” He approached your desk near the upper middle of the room, giving the pleasant smile which always had his fangirls swooning.

You looked up at him, a book open on your desk, then looked around the room blearily. Had the bell already rung? A little disgruntled that time had passed so quickly, you closed your book and began gathering your things. “Oh… ok. Do you want me to focus on the economic and political sections while you handle geography and culture? Or whichever you want to work on… I don’t mind.”

Akechi analyzed the out-of-touch figure before him somewhat curiously. Such a straightforward and business-like response. You hadn’t even smiled at him, though you didn’t frown or glare either. There was an odd glint to your eyes though, that mellowed out when the both of you made eye contact. He honestly wasn’t used to it.

He played innocent, as always, and laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. “Geography and culture works fine… The other two areas aren’t really my strong suit.”

It was a natural attempt to win your interest. Not because he wanted it, parsay, but because he was so used to utilizing his detective persona to make people favor him… he was caught a little off-guard when you ignored it once more.

“Alright.” And that was it. You grabbed your bag, swung it over your shoulder, and meandered off. No attempt to elongate the conversation.

Akechi hummed to himself thoughtfully as you left the class, but a text notification distracted him. He pulled out his phone. It was from Shido… A scowl nearly adorned his lips, but he held it back. Couldn’t let his peers see him break character, after all. More importantly, it seemed he wouldn’t have time to work on the project tonight. There was business to deal with in the Metaverse… again.

Several weeks passed. Between his detective work, other classes, and commands from Shido, it wasn’t too uncommon for him to slip on an assignment or two. That said, the history project had been completely ushered to the back of his mind until, surprisingly, you approached him one day after class.

“Hey. I finished my half of the project and compiled it onto some slides. Can you send me your half when it’s done so I can save the completed assignment on a flash drive?”

Oh…

Oh shit…

In a flash, Akechi turned his charm up and attempted to weasel his way out of the situation, putting on a grand show of being ashamed and distressed to really nail the sympathy home. “Ah! Yes, the project… I… have a confession to make. I’ve been so busy with interviews and work that I haven’t been able to complete much.”

Any other doting classmate would have reacted with a ‘worried’ expression. Told him not to push himself too hard and excused him, offering to complete it themselves. His peers would often do anything for the sake of getting his attention for more than a few minutes, and he’d manipulated this to his advantage often. Always rewarding their efforts with a grateful smile and feigned embarrassment.

Not you…

For a moment, you blankly stared at his little ‘have sympathy and excuse me from my responsibilities’ act. He was a good actor. Too good. Unfortunately, you were a master at seeing beyond manipulation, for reasons linked to childhood which you would never share with another soul as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You lied. “Maybe you should cut back on the interviews.”

Akechi paused for a split second at this. It was a very unorthodox response. He realized suddenly that it was going to take a lot more than his usual charm to sway you.

He began to speak, but found he was cut off before he could get a word out.

“There’s still a week left. Crappy work is better than none at all.” You shrugged.

No. No, that wouldn’t do. Goro Akechi couldn’t have a terribly done project. He was the reflection of perfection. His teachers and other students revered him for it. Not that it would be a noticeable damper in his reputation, but he was painstakingly meticulous about every little thing he did.

His feigned embarrassment was starting to shift into real embarrassment. “Is… Is there any way you could… maybe-“

“I’m not committing academic fraud, detective.”

Akechi felt his face flush at how bluntly you called him out, and a few students glanced at the term. Quickly gathering himself and giving a nervous laugh, he insisted, “That’s not what I meant…”

It seemed he’d be stuck scrapping up this half of the project one way or another. A part of him deep down wanted to growl at you like some sort of animal for putting him in such a strenuous situation. There was no ignoring Shido’s orders, but perhaps if he cut off all the interviews for a week and pulled some all-nighters, he’d be able to bring up something presentable. A twinge of disdain for the coming sleepless nights crossed his face.

You watched him carefully, then sighed. “What if I help you?”

He perked up. Perhaps his charisma had won out after all. “That would be great. I’m sorry for the hassle-“

“I never said I was doing it all for you.” You interrupted before that thought could go any further. “We could do a study session. I can look up relevant links and pass them on for you and whatnot, but you’d still be doing the work.”

It was almost funny how suddenly the ‘detective prince’ deflated at this. Still, it was a better deal than finding all the links and information on his own. At the very least, he’d have information passed on to him. It would make the process of research quicker and smoother.

“I suppose that would be fair, wouldn’t it?” He stated, in that pleasant tone he always forced with others.

You gave something of a partial laugh. “You don’t have to act like you’re not mad at me.”

Akechi blinked at you. Was it that easy to tell? Was he not putting up as good an act as he thought he was? This made him secretly flustered for a moment, but you continued before he could try and insist he wasn’t mad.

“We could meet at the school library after school if it works.” You offered.

That wouldn’t work well… “I often have last minute duties to fulfill after school hours.”

Those last minute ‘duties’ were always Shido calling him and handing over a targets name. Sometimes multiple. And if those targets weren’t taken care of in a timely manner, Akechi would be on the receiving end of some violent fits. He shuddered a bit internally. The man would pay eventually. It was just a matter of careful planning and making sure the newly renowned Phantom Thieves didn’t get any larger than they already were.

You frowned, and he knew this vague answer was likely being interpreted as him being lazy, so he wracked his brain for what few times of the day he was actually given time to himself.

“I suppose lunch would work…” He said, with some hesitation.

It sucked that his one time of the day unoccupied by people or stress would now be invaded with both another person and schoolwork, but he knew he needed the help, loath as he was to admit it. He had permission to eat in a certain teacher’s classroom, and used it as a hideaway so that a flood of fans wouldn’t fight to sit with him. And, frankly, he didn’t want to sit with anyone.

“Alright.” You agreed. “We can meet during lunch till it’s done.”

………………………………………………..

For the next few days, Akechi found himself carrying his lunch tray up to the library where you would be waiting with several books and a laptop open ready to assist him. He loathed it at first, but… something strange began to occur. You began to actually engage in conversation with him. When he was working on a section that didn’t require his or your complete focus, the two of you would talk and hang out.

Random, ridiculous conversations such as ‘what’s your favorite book?’ or ‘did you ever watch Neorangers Featherman when you were a kid, or was that just me?’. He hadn’t even realized when he began to answer honestly and not bother trying to fabricate his lies. He didn’t have to, with such trivial things. And yet, he found he enjoyed it. You, talking to him like he was just another peer.

His half of the project was finished faster than he anticipated it would, likely in part to your handiness with the search bar and library archives. The project, once put together, would be easily passible as an A. Maybe even an A+. He breathed a sigh of relief when it was over, and returned to his usual lunch routine…

At least, that’s what should have happened.

Even after the project was complete, Goro found himself coming to eat lunch with you. It was a little awkward the first time he sought you out during lunch with no particular agenda. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He always chose to spend his lunch alone, so why did he want to eat with you again? Perhaps it was intrigue… There was something off about you. Something that he couldn’t quite place, and he resigned himself to eat lunch with you and spend time until he figured out what it was.

‘It’s to hone my detective skills.’ He reasoned weakly with himself each time.

And you didn’t attempt to avoid him either. You had a little section on the rooftop, a part that wasn’t closed off to students yet was seldom populated, that you sat. Akechi joined you, and eating there just became a regular routine. This didn’t mean he would show his true self, however. He still kept up the facade, spilling his heart out about his justice and ideals, then waiting to see your inevitably underwhelming reaction. Often a shrug or a simple ‘cool’. It was like a game, trying to peak your interest. A game that he refused to believe he was losing.

Then, one day, with the strangest look in your eyes… you smiled. You smiled at him, and it actually caused the detective prince to pause with mild astonishment. The smile was so sincere and yet, so mysterious.

“Akechi… when am I going to get to meet you?” You asked.

The question rolled out like it was normal, and Goro couldn’t help but be confused. Meet him? They’d… already met. Several weeks prior. Was this a trick question?

“I… wasn’t aware we hadn’t.” He laughed, confusion evident. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Your smile grew a bit, and you shook your head. “I’ve become well acquainted with your public image. When am I going to meet you?”

For a moment, one could hear a pin drop. Goro froze, for the first time in a long time, appearing truly caught off guard, as the words sank in. How… how did you know? He never let his detective facade fall. At least… he thought he hadn’t. Had he? You were looking at him, both curious and unusually gentle.

You leaned back a bit, seeming thoughtful. “I guess I should rephrase that question. Will I get to meet you?”

Akechi swallowed and lied. “I’m… not sure I follow.”

The smile melted away into a soft frown, then to acceptance. “I guess not.”

The silence following this was incredibly awkward, as Goro tried to wrap his head around the fact that you’d seen through him so easily. It was more frightening than it should’ve been, and he began to wonder if spending time around you was a bad idea after all. His throat was dry, and yet he found himself speaking.

He could hardly believe his own words. “Maybe one day…”

#p5 #persona #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #my writing #gaming #goro akechi #goro day #akechi #p5 akechi #p5 goro #persona fandom #x reader #p5r #oneshot #writing #persona 5 akechi #akechi x reader

82 notes · View notes

scarletphantom1704 · 5 years

Note

Here's a prompt: Scarlet Vision bonding during the year between AoU and Civil War because we all need fluff right now. Maybe Vision teaching Wanda something? I feel like it usually goes the other way around.

Thank you so very much! I quite love this prompt and I for sure agree, we need some more fluff right now. I’m incorporating the musical we just performed at my school Friday and last night, Hello, Dolly! This is probably the fluffiest piece I’ve ever written and I hope you enjoy reading! Click here for the link to the song that was used to inspire the last section of this one-shot. (x)

“Have you ever seen a musical?” Wanda questions, swiftly maneuvering her way through a crowd of tourists that had stopped to take a picture. Just like the tourists, Wanda too is impressed by the grandeur of the lights of Broadway. Billboards are aglow with the current musicals, as well as a few classics. Every theater is advertising their current show in a spectacular and eye-catching way. Crowds gather outside the theaters, eager to get seated. It all looks like something of a movie rather than reality.

“I have not, but I did research the one that we are to see tonight,” Vision states with a grin. He tugs at the collar of his shirt as if it is uncomfortable. Wanda hadn’t seen him in anything other than some sweaters and slacks. She couldn’t help thinking that he looked very handsome, his red complexion contrasting with the light grey of his suit. Her black sequined dress compliments his outfit as well.

For Christmas this year, a mere two months ago, Vision had surprised Wanda with mystery musical tickets. He’d gotten the idea from hearing her speak passionately of one of her favorite musicals, Les Miserables. She then mentioned how she wanted to watch some new musicals. This comment prompted Vision to buy tickets that night. Though, he was unsure which one to chose. Natasha had helped, also suggesting that he should keep it secret.

“You’re still keeping up the act as if I guessed wrong. I know I guessed it. It’s going to be Cabaret. Right?” Wanda teases, a confident smirk on her face. Vision smiles back innocently, knowing fully well that she is wrong. They were going to see the revival of Hello, Dolly! It’s a Broadway classic, and Vision figured she would appreciate something traditional to Les Miserables and Cabaret.

“Fine don’t tell me,” She giggles, nudging his shoulder with her own.

“You’ll see when we get there Wanda. I assure you that it will be worth your while.”

With his keen eye, Vision spots the Hello, Dolly! theater up ahead. He averts his eyes though, in case Wanda is following his line of sight.

“Do I get any hints?”

“Nope.”

“You’re being difficult Vis. You know that right?” Wanda chuckles and Vision cant help meeting her ocean-green eyes.

“I do recognize that,” Vision states, a smile still present on his lips. “But it is all for good reason.”

Vision quickly dodges around a couple holding hands, causing Wanda and Vision to split. It takes a minute for Vision to find Wanda’s small frame in the crowd of busybodies. When spotted, he makes his way over to her.

“Here,” he says, offering his elbow to her. “You mustn’t get lost before the show.”

“Was that a direct insult to my height, because I feel it was. I am not that small!” Wanda exclaims, straightening her posture and resting a delicate hand on the small of his arm. “See, I only have a few inches on you.”

“You’re in heels, Wanda,” Vision deadpans, his response reminiscent of that of Tony Stark.

“So what?” She laughs. It sounds so genuine, so full of life, that it makes Vision grin. He’s only heard that laugh a couple of times since her brother died, which was less than a year ago.

“Wait, that’s the theater for Cabaret,” Wanda says, her head turning as they walk past the entrance.

“I know.”

“So I guessed wrong?” Vision responds with a nod of the head. Wanda draws her eyebrows together and mutters under her breath. “I thought for sure I was right.”

“Would you like to see it another time? I didn’t mean to disappoint you.”

“Oh no, no, no, Vision! You didn’t disappoint me! I didn’t mean to come across like that. And I would love to go see it sometime.” Wanda squeezes his arm gently with a sincere look in her eyes.

For a second he gets lost in her gaze but quickly looks away when the Hello, Dolly! sign catches his eye.

“Here we are.”

When Wanda doesn’t respond, VIsion turns to look at his friend. Her face is the equivalent of a kid in a candy store. She only says one thing

“Oh, Vision.”

After finding their seats in the balcony, Wanda is buzzing with excitement.

“I’ve heard so much about this musical, and it’s up for Tony Awards too. The pictures are so beautiful online but this is…” Vision begins to tune out her rambling but still watches her with great interest. The way her nose scrunches when she exclaims about something and the way her eyes dart back and forth around the theater as she compliments the towering theater. She finally pauses and meets his eyes.

“What?” She says, her ears, that are visible due to her elaborate updo, heat to a scarlet hue.

“Nothing. I like the way you are passionate about this and how you are so excited. I like seeing you happy Wanda.” Vision states truthfully.

“Yeah. I like being happy too. That doesn’t happen that often.” Her enthusiasm starts to dissipate from her voice as if being faced with reality once more.

“Let us enjoy this night together, okay?”

“Okay.”

As if on cue, the lights dim and the pit orchestra begins the overture.

The sun has set when the two exit the theater. Wanda’s hand had found Vision’s elbow sometime while exiting, similar to how they were walking earlier before the show.

“I think the best song was for sure Put On Your Sunday Clothes but my favorite character was Minnie Fay. She was so adorable! And then in the hat shop when she finds Cornelius Hakel. That was so funny. Ernestina Money was also hysterical too. What about you? Who did you like the best?”

“I quite liked Barnaby Tucker. He was quite enjoyable to watch. I really enjoyed viewing the Hello, Dolly! sequence at the Harmonia Gardens. It was truly a brilliant welcoming song,” Vision says, recalling the scenes.

“Yeah, that was really good. And the waltz scenes. The orchestra complemented the dancing so beautifully. I want to learn to dance that way,” Wanda says before softly humming one of the songs.

“Let us walk to a nearby fountain and I’d love to teach you,” Vision shly says, pausing at a crosswalk. Someone in the distance yells at passerby to buy their Broadway t-shirts.

Nearly identical to the enthusiasm of Dolly Levi in the musical, Wanda taps the lapel of Vision’s coat and exclaims.

“Vision, I didn’t know you could dance!” She laughs, proud of her impression. Vision laughs softly in response. The two continue across the road to a nearby fountain that was conveniently placed.

“During the waltzing scene, I was able to analyze and catalog the moves, from their feet placement to the angle at which their arms were at.”

“I see. You and your brilliant mind. You never seem to not amaze me.” Wanda says, whispering the last part beneath her breath. Now it’s Vision’s turn to blush, but it isn’t noticeable through his already red complexion. The only way you would be able to tell is by the heat radiating from his face.

They finally arrive at the fountain. It is lit up with fairy lights strung from the street lamps. The city lights also help illuminate the surroundings in a pearly glow. Music plays in the background from speakers, making the place even more peaceful. It’s almost ethereal, this place. Other than the scream of traffic horns from the nearby street.

“Ready?” Vision says, turning to face Wanda. “I can teach you here unless you’d like to wait until we get to the Compound.”

“I don’t want to be ridiculed by Tony,” she chuckles. “Besides, this place is a lot more beautiful than the compound. And the people here are too busy in their own businesses to worry about us.”

Vision nods, before reaching out to tenderly grasp Wanda’s hands. She smiles gingerly, subconsciously biting her bottom lip. Vision notices but keeps his focus on the task at hand: teaching Wanda to waltz.

“As Dolly said, ‘Place your hand on her waist and stand.”’ Vision reaches out to touch Wanda’s waist, so gracefully silhouetted in her black dress before stopping. “Uh, may I…” Vision stutters.

“You may.” So he does, gently at first as his body remains stiff and terse.

“Okay then. Next up, Dolly says: ‘With your right in her left hand.’”

Wanda reaches out and grasps Vision’s right hand with her left. “And then?”

“Just follow my lead, okay?” Wanda nods. VIsion starts counting in threes, creating a steady rhythm. Wanda stumbles a few times and after each stumble Vision always seems to grasp her tighter.

“Ready for the next step?” Vision asks once they’ve set into a simple rhythm.

“Yeah. Let me guess, it’s the next verse of that song, isn’t it.” Vision nods, smiling. Wanda giggles before nodding, urging him to continue on.

“’ Take the someone who‘s arms you’re in. Hold onto her tight and spin.’ Those are the next lines.” Vision spins Wanda out grasping her hand tight enough so that she won’t tumble to the ground if something were to happen. She spins back inwards. For a brief moment, her back is to Vision’s chest and his arms are around her waist. But before she knew it, they were back in the starting position, waltzing in threes. Under her breath, Wanda hums the waltz theme from the musical, keeping both dancers in time.

“Hey, look! I’m dancing!” Wanda exclaims, directly reference to Cornelius Hakel in the musical. Both laugh and just as that happens, Wanda trips, falling onto the ground and pulling Vision down with her. They both end up laughing on the ground, unaware of the crowd they’d amassed.

A round of applause engulfs the two and both stand up. Vision’s body language screams that he’s uncomfortable, but Wanda is quite the opposite. She stands up and bows, linking fingers with Vision and urging to do the same.

Wanda sees a few video cameras in the crowd, as they had recorded the dance. But her and Vision’s face was already public to the world as being apart of the Avengers, so it didn’t bother her. Maybe they’d made the news tomorrow, who knows. But that didn’t matter to Wanda. She was still stuck in the high of dancing.

“Thank you, New York!” She exclaims, reaching a hand up to the sky. Everyone laughs before dispersing and leaving Wanda and Vision to their own devices.

“That was fun.” Wanda giggles, meeting Vision’s gaze that had been on her for the last few moments.

“Indeed it was. We should head back now. But I have one more thing that I’d like to say before we fly back, Wanda. Thank you for making this night so amazing.”

“No. Thank you, Vizh.” Wanda says. And with that, she kisses his cheek.

And although in that moment, Vision and Wanda claimed it was just the two of them as friends enjoying a night out, in the future, they’d coin this day to be their very first date. A date when everything was just as it should be. When the world was a peace with the two. That peace didn’t last long though, for the universe has different plans for these two very souls.

If you would like to watch the video song in which the last section of this one-shot is inspired by, click here.

#Scarlet Vision #major fluff #scarlet vision fanfic #ask/prompt

18 notes · View notes

notobsessed-justobservant · 5 years

Text

Brace Yourself (Mission Impossible Pt. 2)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Characters: peter parker, stark!daughter!reader, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, FRIDAY (mentioned)

Word count: 2,670

Summary: The reader is head over heels for her fathers cute new intern, and the rest of the Avengers can tell.

Warnings: cursing, the slightest sexual references?

A/N: Part two! essentially the same as part one but from the readers point of view. I’m glad people liked the first one! and don’t worry, there’ll be much more Peter on Y/N interaction in the upcoming chapter.

Have a Request? Message me!

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list!

Read the rest of the series here.

You frowned, huffing frustratedly as you picked up paint rags and overturned stacks of paper in an attempt to find what you were looking for.

“Dammit…” you grumble, crossing your arms and glancing around the room as a whole. “Where is that damn brush?”

This was not going well. You started off this piece feeling inspired, having watched far too many art videos on the explore page of your instagram, motivating you to push yourself up from the confines of your bed and pull out your easel and paints.

However, the quality was diminishing quickly- you just couldn't get your hands to follow what your brain was telling them to do, each stroke of paint feeling more off than the last.

And now, you couldn’t find the flat brush you’d been using to salvage the background gradient, and you were beginning to become convinced the universe simply didn’t want you to finish this.

“Have you seen it?” you glance over at your dog, Sirius, who’s laying on your bed, paws crossed with his head resting calmly atop them, seemingly watching you paint. His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, and he tilts his head as if in confusion. You exhale dejectedly, dropping your arms.

“I didn’t think so. Damn.” you turn back to your painting, examining it with a disparaging eye. Bringing your hand up to your chin in thought, you rub it between your thumb and forefinger, unknowingly smearing a bit of paint there.

You hear the familiar clicking of clawed feet as a large, similar dog walks up to you, taking a seat next to you and looking up at the painting as if he too was judging it.

“What do you think, Remus? Can it be saved? Or are we too far gone?”

You glance down at the shiny black and brown coated dog next to you. He lets out an involuntary wheeze, jaws seemingly unhinging in a yawn.

“Yeah, I think so too.” you sigh, and you turn back to your unfinished work dejectedly, dropping a hand to the top of Remus’ head, giving him a scratch.

Suddenly, his soft fur disappears from your touch, and you hear Sirius’ heavy form drop down onto the concrete floor of your room as eight paws bound towards the entrance to your room.

As if on cue, you can hear voices from the other side of your door, and not a second passes before the doors are swinging open, and you see the familiar frame of your father stepping into the room.

He’s not alone, however, and with him is a young, chestnut haired boy whose appearance is quickly overwhelmed by two gigantic puppy dogs.

You feel immediately intrigued, two things certain in your mind.

One- while Sirius and Remus were sweethearts around you, they were trained incredibly rigorously, and not only were they your best friends, but also your guard dogs, and it was not often that they couldn’t sniff out an ill-intended person (you couldn’t count how many times they’d been hostile or distrustful towards someone and it had turned out they were up to no good, whether against you, your father, or anyone else close to you).

And two, your dad was almost as ruthless with background checks and character investigation as they were when it came to introducing people to you, so for him to just waltz in one day with a mysterious boy in tow was unusual, to say the very least.

“Whoa- wha-?”

The boy laughed, stumbling back a bit as your not-so-little monsters attacked his face with their tongues. You felt mortified, quickly stepping forward and calling out to them.

“Hey, down boys! Down- down. Jesus, I am so sorry,” you pulled gently at their collars, shaking your head at their behavior- they never acted like this with strangers. You hoped to god this person wasn’t some important big wig, but you guessed by the small snippet of his voice that he wasn’t. He wiped the slobber off his face, and you avoided his eyes as you ushered them away, hoping he wasn’t annoyed by their… overzealous greeting.

“It’s cool! I love do-”

Suddenly, he halted in his tracks, sucking in a surprised breath.

Oh boy.

“W-whoa,” He breathed, and you couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t uncommon for people to react somewhat like he was when meeting you- you were somewhat of an urban legend, an illusive figure that not many caught a glimpse of but everyone knew. Your father was constantly terrified of anything or anyone trying to do you harm, so he had gone a little overboard with protection.

You felt a bit like a princess locked away in a tower at times- and you were for a while, always watching longingly from your room at the top of the Avengers tower over the city, wishing desperately that you could go out and explore it.

Now that you were living in the Avengers compound all the way upstate, you felt even more separated.

“Well that’s good, but who doesn’t, I guess? I mean, if anything I’d take it as a compliment that they like you so much, they’re very picky,” you responded, hoping to steer this meeting away from his amazement and towards a more normal interaction.

You had to admit- he was cute. Really cute, and you found your eyes darting from feature to feature, examining each one with admiration, trying not to be too obvious as you did.

“Huh… yeah…” he breathed, and you took advantage of his daze to really appreciate him. He had curly, tousled brown hair and the richest, warming chocolate colored eyes you’d ever seen. His nose was slightly crooked, and it looked at if it’d been broken, maybe even more than once. His jaw was sharp and angular, and his lips were thin and rosy, and you tried not to let your mind wander this early into your meeting.

“Anyways…” your father interjected. “So, Y/N, this is my intern, also known as the ‘Spider-Man’” he waved, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god- it was Spider-Man.

You’d been admiring the masked hero for months now- you were the one who’d shown your father the videos of him on youtube. When you’d heard that your dad was taking him under his wing, you were ecstatic, and you begged your father to introduce you, especially once he’d told you you were around the same age.

Unsurprisingly though, he refused, saying he couldn’t just go introducing you to any masked vigilante you found on your YouTube explore page.

But now here he was, standing in front of you- standing in your room.

And he was fucking cute.

You made your way towards the main lounge area of the compound, a grin splitting your cheeks as you chewed unconsciously on your the nail of your thumb.

You entered the kitchen, barely glancing up as you made your way towards the refrigerator, Sirius and Remus trailing close behind, just as they always did.

The kitchen hummed softly with casual conversation. At the table sat Natasha, her head resting on her hand as she read intently through a book with a Russian title that you didn’t understand. At the island stood Wanda and Vision, not an unusual sight in the compound, as Wanda would often try and teach Vision recipes from her home, with quite a bit of difficulty.

Without even acknowledging them, you reached for the refrigerator handle, cold air washing over you as the door swung open. You reached inside, pulling out your favorite drink.

Turning, you opened it up, walking airily back towards your room as you practically beamed into the opening of the beverage. You only made it about four steps before Natasha spoke up, barely glancing up above her book to look at you.

“What’s got you so smiley?” she questioned, and you finally stopped to really look at everyone.

“What? I’m not.”

Even Vision laughed.

“Yes, you are. You’re smiling while you say that,” he noted, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not. It’s nothing,” you repeated, though you still found the corners of your lips turned upward. Natasha put down her book, leaning forward to analyze you more intently.

“Somethings up. Spill.”

You frowned finally, laughing incredulously.

“Guys, seriously, it’s nothing, I just saw something funny on twitter, really. Why are you being so weird about this?”

“Why are you being so defensive?” Natasha rebutted, and you rolled your eyes at her. To your right, Wanda squinted at you, and you felt yourself shriveling up under her gaze- you knew that look.

Suddenly, her eyes widened.

“It’s that boy- the Spider Boy Tony brought on our last mission, the one to Austria. He’s here now, is he not?”

You swallowed, crossing your arms over your chest, avoiding her gaze. Wanda knew about your… interest in Spider-Man and she no doubt could tell that it was more than just interest. So could Nat.

“Well, I mean, yeah, he’s here or whatever, but I only talked to him for like ten seconds, it wasn’t that big of a deal-!”

She gasped, a triumphant smile lighting up her face.

“You like him!” she exclaims, and your mouth falls open, terrified.

“I do not. I just met him! I do not like him! I mean, sure, he’s kinda cute or whatever, but-”

Natasha and Wanda nearly erupt into a fit of triumphant excitement, and you almost wish they did, drowning out your voice in the process. They weren’t quick enough though, and a concerned, caring voice speaks up from behind you.

“Who’s kinda cute?” Steve asks, and your eyes go wide as your head whips around, the broad shouldered-sweat soaked forms of Bucky and Steve stepping into the kitchen, back from their afternoon run.

They make their way towards the refrigerator, both grabbing glasses and filling them up eagerly.

“Y/N’s new boyfriend,” Natasha teases. Steves' eyebrows shoot up, his eyes going almost as wide as yours had, and Bucky practically chokes on his water.

“Her what?” Buck exclaims, an almost comically horrified look on his face as he wipes the water from his chin. Wanda giggles from her place at the stove, giving Vision a knowing look as she stirs the pot in front of her.

“My nothing- jesus, I shouldn’t have said anything- it doesn’t even mean anything! I don’t have a crush on him and I’m definitely not dating him. It was just cool to meet someone my age for the first time in like, ever, okay? I was excited! I never get to hang out with people my age and I thought maybe I could make a real friend for once.”

Steve frowns, putting his hand to his chest in mock hurt.

“I thought we were real friends?” he says, a fake strain in his voice. You roll your eyes, and Bucky chuckles at him.

“You don’t count, grandpa. I mean, I love you and all but I can not only have grown ass adults as my ‘friends’.”

“Language-!” Steve reprimands, immediately going into Dad Mode. You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your drink.

“Oh, like you care Mr. Potty Mouth. I hear what you say on missions, you’re no saint either.” you retort, and Bucky chuckles, a lopsided grin gracing his features.

“Anyways, I’m gonna go now, or are you not done bullying me?”

“Oh, we weren’t-” Wanda begins to protest but Natasha cuts her off.

“No, no, she’s right Wanda. We shouldn’t have teased her,” she says, and you grin, nodding.

“Thank you-”

“I know. New relationships can be so hard, we shouldn’t have made fun of her for it-”

“I’M LEAVING.”

Your phone buzzed beside you on your bed, and without looking away from the show you were watching on your computer, you picked it up and eagerly unlocked it.

Peter: so, how’s the painting going btw? Any luck w the background?

You and Peter had been texting back and forth for hours- you sent him a text not long after he’d left, and despite it being a generally insignificant message, something had happened, and you hadn’t been able to stop speaking to one another since.

You: oh I gave up on that a while ago. My mind was telling me yes but the canvas was giving me a HARD no.

Peter: no!!!!! I’m sure it looks gr8 !!

You smiled, shaking your head at the grey speech bubbles popping up on your screen. Over the short amount of time that you’d been texting him, you’d learned that Peter was just about the sweetest little nerd you’d ever met.

It was astonishing, really, the idea that this boy who not fifteen minutes ago was gushing to you about the new Star Wars lego set that he and his best friend had bought was the same guy that you’d seen swinging triumphantly through the city saving civilians.

You: oh, i don’t know about that lol.

Peter: I do!!! I’ve seen some of your stuff on ur insta. Its amazing honestly

You felt your heartbeat stutter, wondering what Peter had been thinking while searching through your Instagram. It reassured you too, as you’d spent an hour and a half stalking his (which you’d gotten from FRIDAY) after he’d left the compound.

You started typing your response, but Peter beat you to it. Your face fell.

Peter: not to be a nerd or anything but I just looked at the time and realized i will seriously want to die at school tomorrow if i don’t go to bed

You glanced to the top of your phone. 12:37.

You: nerd! Sucks to be you i guess.

Peter: aashdfgajs don’t you have school too?? Or is it just that Mr. Starks unhealthy all-nighter gene is hereditary

You giggled. He knew your father well.

You: nope. No school for me. Well. not regular school. I’ve always been homeschooled. My dad just pays really fancy teachers like, a lot of money to come to us and teach me wherever we’re living, under high security and with extensive background checks. Its like college but the teachers come to me and i get to do it in my bed.

Peter: that’s amazing!!

You took a deep breath. Amazing was… one way to describe it. Sure, you were incredibly lucky to have access to the best education the world had to offer, any subject, any teacher, all from the comfort of your own home.

But an amazing education does not translate to an amazing- or anywhere close to normal- social life. Or life, for that matter

Peter: well anyways, the rest of us normal plebs have to get up at like 6 am tomorrow so i gotta go or i am seriously going to regret things tomorrow.

You: thats fair. Have fun at normal nerd school, Peter-man. Night!!

Peter: I’m never gonna live that down, am I?

You laughed.

You: not a chance.

Peter: of course not. I’d expect nothing less. Goodnight, Stark.

You closed your phone, dropping it on your nightstand, pausing your computer, rolling onto your back.

Staring up into the high, industrial rafters of your bedroom, you sighed deeply, throwing your arms over your face.

You could feel your stomach turning and twisting, a warm, bright feeling filling your chest.

You already sensed your hand reaching for your cell phone, eager to send Peter another message.

Jesus, you’d barely been talking to the boy for half a day and you were already hooked on him. You couldn’t keep away from his dumb jokes, or his sweet encouragements, or even just the mundane way he spoke from message to message. You remembered the way he’d felt when he’d fallen forward onto you before he left for home- Oh, that dork was buff. And he was sweet, so, impossibly sweet that you could already feel a toothache forming.

“Oh, fuck.”

You were so going to get bruises from this fall.

Tags:

@wishingforahome @dark-night-sky-99 @justawaywardwinchester @gracefultrenchcoat494

56 notes · View notes