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#I promise you—you’ll hear it here first I guess— that I think her battle is like that on purpose
imtryingmybeskar · 1 year
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Come Home Chapter 5
Joel Miller x F!Reader.
Angsty slow burn. Your first day in Jackson goes as well as expected. Word count 3255.
Warnings for descriptions of the effects of PTSD and battling panic attacks (these are PURELY based on my own personal experiences).
I had to split this chapter into two so Joel isn't here much, but from next chapter he will be very present. Thank you for reading and sticking with it!
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Come Home
Chapter Five - Asphyxiated
Welcome warmth hits your face as the girl pushes the door of the town’s watering hole open, and you stamp your boots free of snow and slush before crossing the threshold.
The Tipsy Bison is an old fashioned, homespun kind of place. With its mix of wood panelled and stone walls, decorative antlers and soft, yellow lighting it could be straight out of an old Western - although thankfully the low level of chatter does not fall to silence as you enter. There are more than a few curious glances directed your way, though. The girl seems not to notice and makes a beeline straight for Maria who is talking with someone - presumably the barman, given that he is behind the bar and polishing glasses with a dishcloth. He is an older man with a shock of white hair and a dour expression.
“-you’ll be okay to do that, Seth?” you hear Maria ask as you approach. The barman nods once, firmly and then jerks his head extremely unsubtly toward you, clearly warning her of your approach. They were discussing something to do with you then. Or the group you came in with. It didn’t really matter. You were planning to stay well out of the politics and machinations of this place.
Maria turns to you, a tiny smile curling the edges of her mouth. “How’s it going?” she enquires, supremely unconcerned that she has been caught talking about you.
“Good. Weird. The Christmas tree. Is weird.” You sound like an idiot to your own ears, unable to form a proper sentence, but Maria takes it in her stride.
“Guess it is if you’ve not seen one in a while,” she concedes gracefully. “Have you had a look around elsewhere? Seen anywhere you might want to sleep other than the barn tonight?”
“Uh…yeah. I think. There’s those houses down near the cemetery-“
“Oh shit! That’s where I live!” interjects the girl excitedly. You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
“You like it there?” you ask.
“Its ok,” she replies, tempering her early exuberance with a now-casual air. “Not too many people around. I like it that way.”
“Me too,” you confess. “So I think I’d like to take one of those houses…if that’s okay with you,” you add hastily, talking to Maria this time.
She nods. “Joel said you might be asking about a house round there-“ she begins. The girl interrupts her, speaking to you and sounding excited once more.
“You spoke to Joel?”
“She sure did.” That voice again. Deep and dark and threatening to drown you in its sin. You peer past Maria toward the end of the bar and how did you not spot him before? That imposing form was still mightily broad even when it was stood mostly out of sight behind a wooden pillar. Now that you had noticed him, you saw that half smile make an appearance again and he raised a mug of something hot in a gentle toast in your direction. “Told ya I’d put in a good word,” he grins.
So. He’s Joel. And when the girl approaches him to talk and playfully punches him on the arm in response to some quiet remark he makes, you hear him call her Ellie. Joel and Ellie. Your new neighbours. They seem to be very friendly together and you wonder if they too are family.
As promised, you’re able to get some food from the bar, though when faced with the prospect of actually drinking alcohol you swiftly go off the idea. Better to keep your wits about you, especially so soon after arriving. Everyone seems happy and well-adjusted here, but you can never really tell. When you ask Maria how you would go about paying for what you’ve eaten the discussion evolves into talking about what you would be willing to do to contribute to Jackson and what skills you can offer.
“I’m a good cook,” you shrug. “And I can knit. I’ve never farmed before, but I had quite the flourishing garden growing once upon a time. I’m not afraid to explore and map places. And I can kill infected.”
Movement catches your eye as Ellie departs, and you return her brief wave with a smile as she heads back outside into the freezing afternoon. Your eyes slide back over to Joel to find him looking pensive but happy, now sitting at the bar and staring into the depths of his mug as he swirls its contents around.
“We’ll trial you with a scouting group for now.” Maria’s voice breaks into your thoughts and your attention snaps back to her. “If all goes well you can be paired with someone and they can show you the trails we keep clear and the outposts we have. We never go out solo. Always at least two. But for now, we want you to settle in. Rest. Recuperate. Get your strength up. So eat. Please.”
You do as you’re told, savouring the steaming bowl of winter vegetable soup and thick slices of fresh bread. Appetite - as opposed to hunger - was something you thought had been cut off, left behind somewhere as you travelled across the wasteland of what once was. But in this setting you could feel yourself relax and begin to actually enjoy what was in front of you. Maybe it was just the novelty of not eating the contents of a tin for once.
As you eat, Maria continues to speak. “Once you’re done we’ll get you sorted with some fresh linen, towels, clothes, food, toiletries. The basics. I’d like for us to check in with each other once a day for the first week or so. Just to see how you’re settling in.”
To your surprise hearing this offer brings a tightening of your throat. It sounds…genuine. Like this woman actually gives a shit about your wellbeing even though she just met you. You swallow the lump away and tune back into what she’s saying. “-could just check in with Joel if you want. He’ll look out for you.”
Upon hearing his name you sneak yet another look over only to find the space vacant, the only sign he was ever there at all the mug left on the bar. A brief brush of disappointment hits you before you pull yourself together to focus on the conversation.
“He mentioned the garage,” you interject. “I mean, he mentioned someone lives in his garage. That they made it into a living space. If its possible I’d like to do something similar.”
“What you do with your house is your business,” Maria replies, and though the words are abrupt, the tone is soft. “Joel’s garage had been remodelled before everything went sideways. We just had to clean it up. If you want to remodel too, feel free. As long as it doesn’t interfere with whatever work you’re assigned.”
Your heart sinks a little at her words. Maria notices but misunderstands. “Hey, those houses are really nice,” she says, smiling encouragingly. “I’m sure you’ll be happy in whichever once you choose. And if you need a DIY project to keep you busy, there are plenty of people in this town who would be happy to help.”
All too soon you’re standing back in the cold, on the porch of a beautiful two storey house, indistinguishable from the other two storey houses in the neighbourhood except for yours has a coat of relatively fresh green paint over its timbered front. When you touch a gloved hand to it and give Maria a questioning look, she shrugs.
“Other people sometimes need DIY projects to keep busy too. Its why we have a pool of empty houses so readily available. Not everyone feels comfortable going outside the walls. So they keep busy inside them.” She opens the door and you step inside.
Its…a lot. And yet not enough. You’ve raided plenty of houses for supplies over the past twenty years. Most of them were decrepit or broken in some way, a few stood tall, layers of grime and cobwebs the only clue to the time that had passed. This one is clean and tidy, though it still smells a little like dust and disuse.
An open plan living room is to your left and you can see where the wooden floor turns to pale kitchen tile beyond. To your right and through a doorway is what was once presumably a dining room, though its table and chairs are notable by their absence. Some mismatched and basic furniture has been supplied – a peach coloured couch, two dark blue squashy looking chairs, a small wooden coffee table, a few lamps resting on various surfaces, a bookcase with some pre-chosen literature on it. An open fireplace is against one wall, a stack of chopped wood waiting next to it. Stairs directly ahead of you lead up to the next floor and you can feel the weight of the empty rooms up there, each doorway leading to a black rectangle of the unknown –
“You okay?” Maria’s question is brief but loaded with meaning. You inhale deeply and do your best to release your fears along with your breath.
“Yeah. Yeah I’m good. Its just going to take a while to get used to this again. I haven’t lived alone since…I-I mean I haven’t lived in a proper house since…” You trail off for a second time, both unwilling and unable to complete the thought paths necessary to finish your sentences.
“Joel and Ellie are right next door,” Maria says comfortingly. “Go to them if it gets difficult. You have my permission.” You were right. They are family.
“Don’t I need Joel and Ellie’s permission?” you joke weakly.
“Didn’t I tell you I was in charge?” she jokes back. “Come, look.”
She steps back on to the porch and points at the white-painted building next to yours. You had recognised the property earlier as the one Joel had emerged from when you had been exploring and would be lying to yourself if you said that the green paint was the only thing that had attracted you to this particular house. Wanting to be away from people didn’t mean you wanted to be completely alone. The four years spent with Chris had sometimes actually been fun in between the struggle for survival. Before that…well you knew you didn’t want to go back to a completely solitary existence.
“Right next door,” Maria repeats, and you nod as you try to quell the nerves in your stomach. They only get worse when she departs, holding an arm up in a farewell before she disappears back into the centre of Jackson. You close the door, but can’t seem to release the handle afterwards, standing there with your forehead pressed against the cool wood, eyes closed and trying to breathe normally.
A whole house. A real house. Of your own. Not a tiny cabin, or a barricaded room, or a tent exposed to the elements, or a hastily made camp in an old office building, or an abandoned military truck. A house.
A home?
Exhaling a shaky breath you finally turn your back to the door and slump against it as you survey your tiny kingdom. No, not a home. But a safe place to eat and sleep, and that was a good start on one. Before you step away from the door, you bolt and lock everything that can be bolted and locked. Just in case.
The pale, washed out grey of the winter afternoon sun was now struggling to pierce the gloom of the interior and though you could still just about see, the kitchen was starting to look decidedly shadowy. As if drawn by some unseen entity, your eyes once more travel upward. Where the stairs begin to reject the fading light and transmute into pure blackness…
With a shudder, you tear your gaze away and step further into the living room. Your breath is coming faster again and you realise that the darkening space around you is starting to feel suffocating and absolutely unbearable. Hurriedly, you rush to the kitchen to lock up the back door too, switching the lamps on as you go and checking every window is secure before closing the curtains against the outside world. You close the door to the dining room too, but only once you have checked inside it. It wasn’t likely that a bloater was lurking undetected, but at least now you knew for sure.
You build the fire, for something to do as much as to ward away the cold, and while its settling into the grate you make some…well tea is perhaps too strong a word for the weak brew you manage to eke out of the tiny bit of dried peppermint that you allow yourself to use from the supplies you have been gifted. But you make it on the hob, not over a fire, and the novelty of that is enough to keep the shadows at bay a little while longer.
Unpacking is another good distraction - putting the tins in the cupboards, the perishables(!) in the fridge(!!) and putting the toiletries off to one side, trying once more to ignore the stairs, the thought of a whole other floor of the house, and the inevitable time when you would have to go up there.
It loomed but somehow also lurked. The rooms. The darkness…Nope. Not going there. Not thinking about that. Just focus on the tea. The tea and the fire and a sofa and a book. Like a human being and not a cowering, broken thing.
And after a couple of hours of relative peace, once your bladder is painful and can no longer be ignored, you stand at the foot of those stairs and again stare up into the unknown. Your gun is now in its customary place at your hip. The biggest kitchen knife you could find is in your hand. The small torch you use to explore the world outside Jackson is affixed to your shirt.
A large part of you knows that this is foolish, that this house would have been cleared and checked not just once but many times over. The person who painted it, the person who ensured the plumbing and the electrics worked, the person who placed those books on the bookcase, the person who swept the dust from the floor – all of them moved through here. All of them would have noticed infected roaming around. Hell, Joel and Ellie have lived around here for a while and you doubted they would put up with neighbours like that for long.
And yet you know you won’t be able to sleep until you’ve checked every room yourself. Until you’re certain that the noises that have occasionally broken into your concentration are of the house settling and not footsteps. It is foolish. But it will hopefully bring a certain peace of mind that you desperately need.
The first creaking step up sends an unpleasant tingle across your scalp, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you force away the feeling of wrongness you’re battling. You force yourself to move. One more step. Another. You trail your fingers along the wall, the feeling of stippled paint under your fingertips the slimmest of tethers to reality. The light behind you is fading and ahead your world narrows to the powerful beam of your torch - your only guiding light. The thoughts running through your mind become clipped as you try to quell the feeling of nauseous panic that is threatening to overtake you.
A little further.
Nothing wrong.
Your house.
No one else here.
Of course, the upstairs was entirely ordinary. Old world ordinary true, but nothing was hiding in the shadows or tried to eat or shoot you. As soon as you reach the top landing you lean across to flick the light switch, noting the five doors that are now illuminated by the sickly yellow light coming from behind the ancient lampshade - three ajar, two closed.
The one directly in front of you is a bathroom – you can see the tell-tale gleam of white porcelain within. The two doors to your left lead into bedrooms where you can see carpets and beds and dressers and all the other furnishings you would expect. You explore them as thoroughly as you had the dining room and discover the hitherto unseen ensuite that resides in one of them, before drawing their curtains and closing their doors, your mind only a little less frantic than before.
That left two.
The first is easy - the set of slatted double doors gives it away. A closet with some random detritus inside – an ironing board leaning against one wall, a pathetic looking abandoned scarf draped across a hanger, some old cardboard boxes that you have no intention of looking in.
Then there was one.
Your hand hovers over that doorknob for seconds that pass to minutes.
The corridor
No.
The endless black.
No!
The thin beam of light from your torch when you flicked it on, barely even able to illuminate a halo around what is closest to you.
Nonono!
The shine. The gleam of light on the remnants of gloss paint and broken glass in the door ahead-
NO!
You wrench your shaking hand away and pound back downstairs to the merrily blazing fire, throwing yourself face first into the soft embrace of the sofa, heart racing as you stare into the orange of the crackling flames as if they could burn your memories away through your eyes. Two words run through your mind, trying to blank out the encroaching terror.
Nothingtherenothingtherenothingtherenothingthere
Eventually you control your breathing. Eventually your heart rate reduces and you don’t feel as if you might keel over at any moment, though your mind is still numbly racing. You had lived out there. With the monsters and the bandits and the cannibals and the warlords. So why did this somehow feel worse?
Distantly, as though it was coming through a barrier of water, you hear a knock at the door.
Well, it was more of a brash thumping really. As if the person had been there a while and was getting impatient with being on the wrong side of it.
You lie there, momentarily frozen in the throes of your previous fear. Who could want to see you mere hours after you’d moved in?
Another, louder, round of thumping finally snaps you free of the paralysis. Pushing yourself up to a vertical position, you manage to stand on shaky legs. You decide that its probably Maria coming to check on how you’re settling in.
The thumping starts up again but swiftly abates once you begin the process of unbolting and unlocking the door. What could you say to her? That you were fine? That you had tea and a book and were warm and that all of that was objectively wonderful? That in reality it only served to make you feel more dead inside because you were also freaking out over doors and shadows, trying desperately to stave off another panic attack? No. Tell her what she wants to hear and then…then you can think about just getting through the night.
Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories
As you pull the door open, you attempt to plaster a smile on your face to give credence to the lies you’re about to say. Instead it freezes into a rictus grin as you come face to face with deep brown eyes and shaggy dark waves.
Next chapter
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queen-ofsunflowers · 2 years
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Make Every Moment Last - Chapter 62 Preview
The Third Semester Begins
Their entire winter break went by in the blink of an eye. Minato supposed that it was because they had been so busy with New Year’s, as well as beginning their preparations for their battle against Nyx in a little over three weeks time. And the world seemed to reflect that.
It really didn’t hit Minato that much more was going on outside of the dorm until Junpei pulled him aside that first day back, right before he could enter their classroom. Literally. He took the witch by the arm and dragged him into an unoccupied corner of the hall.
“Junpei—” started Minato with a huff.
“I just wanna talk to you for a sec,” said the disguised dragon. Was that really all there was to it?
“Couldn’t you have done that before we left this morning?” There was plenty of time to. Why was he choosing to do it now before class started?
“C’mon man. It’ll only take a few minutes. We haven’t had the chance to talk before, so…” What was he talking about? There were plenty of chances for them to talk. …or, maybe thinking about it now, there really weren’t that many with all the work that needed to be done.
Minato sighed. “Fine. What’s up?”
Junpei sighed, relieved that Minato was willing to hear him out. “You know how it’s been weird around here lately?”
“You mean how people have been passing out in the streets while others have been going missing?” Junpei nodded. Little did he know that S.E.E.S.’s two leaders had already talked about it the day before. “Mitsuru-senpai thinks it's because there are too many Apathy victims and the Dark Hour’s memory revision isn’t keeping up.”
“Makes sense…” Junpei shrugged, “but that’s not even the worst of it.” Oh? How could that not— “There’s a doomsday cult running around telling everyone that they see the end of the world is coming…” …oh, that was how. Minato sighed.
“People are just scared. Usually they make others scared when they’re scared themselves.” Fear was like a disease in that regard. It spread easily if people weren’t careful.
“Yeah, I can guess they somehow sense what’s gonna happen.” There was a beat. Nyx… It was really hard to not have her on their minds these days… especially with how much of a threat she posed, and the fact that they were the only ones with any hope of stopping her. “We have not only her to deal with, but there are still those two members of Strega who’re still alive.”
“Right… they haven’t done anything since November, but…” The fact that they were practically waiting outside of the Tower to jump S.E.E.S. like they did… and that they were willing to do whatever they had to… “I can’t help but think that they’re planning something.”
Junpei huffed. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Minato glanced over at the disguised dragon, a wary look in his eye. Strega… “...Junpei, when we come across them again, what are you going to do?” he asked. There was no way that this was a matter of ‘if’. Strega was most likely involved with what was going on, and Minato needed to plan ahead for that eventuality. Junpei glanced at the ground.
“...at one point, I might’ve just torn them apart,” said the disguised dragon, surprisingly somber. “I know we need to take care of them, but killing them just doesn’t seem right anymore. It seems like the easy way out. I trust you guys to help me remember that if I lose sight of it…” The somberness melted as he smirked a little. “Just let me punch Takaya in his smug face, though.”
“I promise that you’ll get that chance,” said Minato. Honestly, after all Takaya had done to S.E.E.S. ...how much he had hurt them… He wasn’t going to let anyone hold back if they had to fight Strega one more time.
“Thanks,” said Junpei. “...It just hit me, you know… but I never imagined I’d trust you of all people with my life. I’m not tryin’ to be mean or anything, but compared to how we were last spring…”
“No, I get what you’re saying.” Minato had been kind of an ass… And okay, maybe he had been a complete and utter asshole, but… “I never thought I’d have friends… a family like this either. It’s hard to believe that it could…”
“I know. But you just gotta believe that this will work.” Junpei clapped his hand over Minato’s shoulder, trying to be reassuring. That was until he pulled back, remembering that Minato didn’t like to be touched without permission like that. “It’s pretty amazing that you came up with an idea like this. You’re pretty cool, man.”
Minato smirked. “Thanks, Junpei.” It was still weird to get a compliment from him… and in general, despite the fact that it had been about a year.
“After this, we’ll still be friends, right?” Junpei asked as the pair finally headed into their classroom. “When everything’s all over?”
“Of course. If you can’t get rid of Koto, then you can’t get rid of me either.” In terms and conditions like these, those two came as a package deal.
The full chapter will be up on Ao3 on June 1!
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themrsackerman · 3 years
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Angel of Paradis
Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader
Warnings: Spoilers from Season 4. Mentions of gun violence, blood, death
A/N: Now I know EP8 is only the beginning of the end but goddamn it hurts!! I love potato girl and losing her just tore me to bits. So here, take this. Its my way of coping I guess..
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Levi is pissed off. From the start, he disliked the plan but it wasn't like Eren gave you all much of a choice. So the moment the kid got on the airship, he was welcomed with one of the captain's infamous kicks. The cockpit wall quakes with the impact and Hange sighs, shooting you a look. "I think you need to get out there and make sure Levi doesn't kill Eren, Y/n." She says exasperatedly and you nod, rising from your seat next to Onyankopon.
"I'll be right back." You say and she flashes you a knowing grin, shaking her head slightly. Even the commander knows you're the only one who could reign in the Levi Ackerman.
You see Levi on the corner glaring at Eren as he was being tied up. You sigh heavily, seeing Eren steaming as he heals. Jaw probably unhinged from the captain's kick. You sat beside him on the bench and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his face clean from dirt and blood.
"Y/n-san." He greets you monotonously and you gave him a kind smile. "Hey, kid." You greet back, tucking loose strands of his now long hair behind his ear.
Your heart aches at the sight. He used to have so much fire, had the same will to fight for humanity that you only ever saw in your mentor, Erwin. Now all you see is ember of pure hatred and cold blooded need for revenge. "I'm glad you're okay." You murmur. Eren's blank stare softens for a second and a small smile hints the corner of his mouth. "Glad to see you too, Lieutenant." He says quietly and out of the corner of your eyes, you see Levi roll his eyes and make a disgruntled sound as he turns around.
You walk up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Levi meets your gaze with his dull gray ones for a second and sighs, his expression softening too. At this you smile a little and say, "We still have a long battle to fight ahead of us, Captain. Things might not have gone smoothly, but we won today." You remind him and as if proving your point, right on the other side of the ship you hear the soldiers celebrate as they reunite.
"You're right." He agrees. Levi then takes a deep breath and grabs the hand you placed on his shoulder so he can bring it to his face. He turns his head and placed a chaste kiss on your palm. Your heart flutters at the gesture. It isn't grand but was still something you couldn't quite get used to. You two never declared your love for one another, never really had the luxury of time or chance to do so, but small acts like this was enough to let you know that your presence provided him the calm he sorely needs. And that was all you want. Be his peace in this war.
"I'm going to check if the rest of the squad made it back up." You tell him, grazing your thumb on his lower lip and he reluctantly lets you go. "Be back as soon as you can. Meeting will start as soon as this fucking monkey heals enough." He says, cold glare flashing at the other Jaeger who is a pile of steam still laying on the ground. "Okay, I'll just check on Lima's squad. They're the last ones to be picked up supposedly." Levi nods again and watches you leave before turning to talk to Yelena.
You smile past Floch and the other soldiers who are weeping, hugging and making their tributes for those whom had fallen in battle. You then saw three of the soldiers you've grown close with through the years. They were huddled in the corner, sharing a hug.
You hear Jean say in protest, "Dont hug people with that lump ass iron gear on.", while shrugging off Connie's arm. You chuckle at this and tackled him back to the embrace. "Shut the hell up, Jean. I would take Connie's armored hugs any day!" To which the trio whines out, " Lieutenant Y/l/n!!" when you squished them tight.
Although the new gear designed by Hange was in deed not made for hugging, you four relaxed in the uncomfortable embrace. Grounded by the fact that you all made it safe despite the battle you had just gone through. Connie and Sasha smile up at you while Jean tries to still look annoyed, although the softness in his eyes says otherwise.
The soldiers left below start coming in and the cheering just grows even louder. You didn't have the heart to stop them because you yourself are quite happy that today was a success despite some casualties. Now, you have the War Hammer titan as well and were able to destroy the fleet. Now, the Eldians' chance stands higher against this damn war.
"Did you hear that just now?"
Sasha asks out of the blue and you turn to her in wonder. Honestly you couldn't hear anything but the soldiers celebrating. But out of the lot of you, you know Sasha's sense of hearing is far superior than all of you combined. So you take a step back from the crowd and actually looked around.
"Hey, quiet down!!"Jean yells over the chanting but Floch shouts, "Make some noise! Victory!!!" And was echoed by the rest as they embraced and pumped their fists in the air.
"Hey!" Jean tries again only to be pulled by Connie to the side to ask, "Isn't Lobov-san still out there?"
"No, I think he came aboard." Jean says thoughtfully and this was when something didn't sit quite right with you. Commander Lobov is a man that is hard to miss. And with his dedication to this mission to make up for his years being a useless garrison, he would be amongst the soldiers cheering the loudest for the said victory.
Your instincts has never failed you before and its the very reason why you are so good at your job and able to survive this long. But sometimes, you wish that your instincts aren't always right because you always perceive danger. And right now, every fiber of your being is telling you something is fucking wrong.
That if you were to look out the airship right now, you'll probably see the commander lifeless.
Or worse, an enemy may have made its way up to the ship.
Your blood runs cold for a split second before you acted purely out of instinct. You shove Sasha to the side, dreading as you head for the airship's side door and at the exact moment.. someone aboards.
Your gaze met the kid's muddy brown ones. It was determined, filled with fury and you saw that there isn't any trace of hesitation as her finger pulls the trigger. You knew you didn't stand a chance judging by look on her face and her sure aim on your torso. The word of warning you want to let out was caught in your throat as she fires.
You remember seeing those crazed brown eyes and then the ceiling of the airship the next. The sensation of what can only be compared to fire piercing your skin spreads through your chest and insides like molten metal. You hear the indistinct noise of the soldiers' voices grow louder yet muffled at the same time around you.
From happy cheers to manic, hysterical screaming.
You couldn't catch your breath at first and you aren't sure from which. Was it from falling flat on your back? Or was it the searing pain that made tears leak from your eyes?
And then above the chaos, you hear your three closest comrades call your name in unison.
"Lieutenant Y/n, hey!!!" Connie's frantic voice shrill through the limited space of the ship. "Hang in there, hey!" You feel him rattle you, placing his rough calloused hand against your cheek. Jean's panic stricken face comes to your field of vision and you whimper,  "A kid." You gasp. "In the airship."
"Bandages! Now! We need to stop the bleeding!" Jean commands shakily and the rest of the soldiers that aren't capturing the two intruders scramble to get the med kit and the captain.
"Y/n-san, please hold on until we make it to the island!!" Connie pleads but hopelessness crawls his veins as he sees your blood flood the wooden floors.
"Keep him safe." You whisper out to nobody. The captain in mind. Your eye lids grow heavy but you didn't want to close them. No. You can't die. You promised him.
"Don't you dare die on me, Y/l/n." His voice echoes in your mind, compelling you to keep breathing despite how excruciating it feels.
Sasha who was frozen at first, snapped out of her shock as she hears Connie's voice call your name out of sheer panic when your eyes fall close. She then runs to meet the soldier carrying the bandages and was at your side in an instant. With trembling hands, Sasha tries with all her might to wrap you up and stop the bleeding.
"No, no, no, no!!" She starts sobbing while watching the bandage turn red, your gushing blood seeping through no matter how tight she puts the wrap around you. "Y/n-san, no, you can't leave us like this." Sasha hiccups, wiping her tears hastily before grabbing your now cold clammy hand and pressing it to her face. "Please!" She cries, eyes falling close.
If you hadn't pushed her, if you didn't step in her place, it would have been her that got shot. Guilt rakes through her as she watches you desperately fight for your life.
You can feel yourself drifting and you felt helpless. You then meet Sasha's, Jean's and then Connie's gaze, muttering with your remaining strength, "Protect him." And it was no request but an order.
Jean stumbles away, his hands going over his ears, unable to stand your labored breaths and Connie and Sasha's whimpering. Jean felt like hurling when Floch turned the kids to him. The other responsible for you being on the brink of death.
But to those two kids, they are the enemies who wreck havoc to their hometown. Floch wanted to kill them and throw them out but what good would that do? Would taking their lives save yours? And knowing you, who practically treat soldiers like them like your kids even though you were just a few years older than them, you would be disappointed in him at the mere thought of hurting these kids.
Jean can almost hear your angelic voice, "They're just children." You would say. So with a vexed expression and heavy turmoil growing within him, he ties them up and led them to where the captain and commander are.
Jean swallows hard when the captain's cold gaze met his and asks, "Who are these kids?"
By the looks of it, he still does not know.
"They killed Lobov-san and used his gear to come aboard." A lump forms in his throat, suddenly can no longer meet the captain's gaze. "A-and this one here, she.. shot Lieutenant Y/l/n."
Levi's eyes widen. Did he just hear Jean correctly? You? Shot? You were with him just minutes ago. No, how is that possible?-
"Captain, I-I don't think she'll make it." He continues, voice faltering. The grievance in Jean's face make Levi's blood run cold. He stumbles forward a bit as Armin and Mikasa run past him but he seemed frozen in his tracks.
No.
You got hurt but you'll pull through this. You always have. You promised him. And you are one of the toughest people he knows.
Levi tries to convince himself as he glared back at Zeke. He tries to distract himself from the cold fear of losing you with the blinding rage he feels for the Beast Titan wielder. But then, the door swings open again and Levi felt something terribly wrong right away.
And when Connie appears with tears sliding down his face and says,
"Y/n-san.. is dead."
Levi's entire world shifts.
Everyone was shellshocked for a moment. Because how could you be gone just like that? When you were just with them just minutes ago providing comfort to all of them? Passing by and giving them a wave of peace and calmness like the angel that you are.
Hange wobbles, her knees growing weak and its as if someone had punched her in the chest. The pain reminiscent as the day she watched Moblit vanish before her eyes. You were her right hand woman. Her confidant.
Eren's head hung in disbelief. His mind clouded by your kind smile just earlier and telling him you're actually glad to see him. Him. The monster who had just devastated a whole town and killed probably thousands of people. He thought that by now, he'd have gotten used to losing the people around him but losing you is gutting him. Its was like losing family. A sister.
"Connie.. did Y/n-san have any last words?" He asks mindlessly, wanting to know what your last thoughts were. Connie blinks through his tears and his eyes drifts to the captain, whose face was undreadable and knuckles threatening to split open at how tightly his balled fists are clenched.
"She said.. 'Protect him.'" Connie mutters and Levi's facade breaks.
The mob of weeping soldiers parted as the captain staggers to the back of the ship where you lay. Armin and Mikasa were still curled up beside you, their faces red and puffy from wailing. Both of them reluctantly stood up and stepped away as he walks closer. His gaze was still trained on the ground as he puts one foot in front of the other.
He shudders and stop midstep as his foot steps on the crimson stained wood. Before he knows it, he falls on his knees with a thud. Your pale hand comes into his field of vision and he takes a deep shakey breath as he reaches for it. His eyes darts everywhere but your face. The bandage on your middle, the boots on your feet that he had his fair share of shinning as his token of appreciation for you making his morning teas, the emblem of the Wings of Freedom embedded on your breast plate.
Your hand felt cold and stiff against his. A stark contast of the warmth it exuded on his cheek just moments ago.
"Y/n?" He croaks.
Suddenly his breathing shallows as the deafening silence stretches on. He can still smell you but can no longer feel you although you're right fucking there. Levi wanted this to some fucked up nightmare. But then, as he steels his nerves and finally looked at your face, his heart shatters.
Your hair is uncharacteristically dishevelled, e/c eyes lifeless, pupils middilated and your mouth parted ever so slightly.
Levi pulls you in his arms frantically, plethora of would have been and should have been anchoring his heart into a sea of regret.
He should have never let you out the damn door.
He should have held you tighter.
He should have you talked to you longer.
He should have told you.. he loves you.
He never even got to tell you.
Levi's face crumples, face reddening before a resentful yell erupts from him. The soldiers wince at the sound. It was pure agony and it pierces through each and everyone of them, bringing the lot of them back to tears if they ever stopped in the first place.
The entire flight back to Paradis, Levi held you the way he wished he did while you were still with him.
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angelkurenai · 3 years
Text
Long overdue - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Title: Long overdue
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: None
Prompt: Could you please do a Bucky and y/n where she is shy but is really close to Steve and Bucky thanks their dating and he gets jealous because he loves her but they don’t really talk that much? Love your work
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“Still not ready to retire old man?” you smiled, teasingly when the blonde looked at you over his shoulder, but always with a warmth in your eyes that only longtime friends, family, at this point could have. Especially after everything you've all been through.
“What did you just call me, right now?” he narrowed his eyes at you, a lightness and easiness in both his movement and voice, as you couldn't see much of his face at that moment. Granted there was still some heaviness in the atmosphere whenever silence followed, and his moves if one was to pay close attention could notice were short and stiff. And you do notice it.
But who could blame him? Things are better than what they've been five years ago but still, that doesn't mean good. Not when people were still lost in the battle, important ones. Also family.
It's as good as it can get for now at least, and to have your best friend alive and here with you is really the second best thing at the moment. So you can't nor will complain.
“Am pretty sure you heard me. Just as I am sure that if I looked close enough, I could spot a white strand of hair here and there.” you smirked when his eyes widened “But that's not the point here. What I mean is, it's been a good couple months since you gave up that shield, and yet you're still somehow around. Changed your mind, maybe you need a new one? I saw one the other day when I was in town, I think it would suit you.”
“I'm just taking my time, it's not that easy to find an apartment in Brooklyn. You know that.” he turned to fully face you, a frown on his face but it was anything but serious as he crossed his arms over his chest “Besides, weren't you the one that said I should take as much time as I need and that this will always be my home? What happened now? Can't wait to get rid of me?”
“Oh you figured it out, at last.” you played along, letting out a long sigh of relief “Yeah, I'm so sick and tired of seeing that perfectly handsome face all the time. Distracting, taunting and at the same time reminding me of the 20 skincare products I have to use yet again tonight, to look even remotely human.”
A deep chuckle escaped his lips, the easy smile managing to warm you deep to your heart, just as much as his arms did the moment they wrapped around you "If that is to say you look like an angel otherwise, then yes I will accept it.”
“Yeah, particularly the one that rules hell.” you chuckled.
“Why do I even try to say anything nice for you in the first place?” he laughed, shaking his head.
You giggled, wrapping your arms around him as well, trying to find some comfort in your friend- in your family, before you inevitably had to throw yourself into this new world without him. The new age of heroes where many things had changed and in which you wouldn't have someone to turn to any given moment, as easily as it was with Steve. Steve had always been that important. There still was one, much more important of course, but that treacherous heart of yours made it impossible for you to even remotely think you could be so open with him as with Steve. Not without turning every shade of red there was, anyway. “In any case-” you cleared your throat “I could still get you that shield and you can be back on the business in no time. With a new title, of course, but still doing the job... which involves making me breakfast and dinner when I'm too tired. I mean, now that I think about it, you can still keep up that job even if you don't wanna be out on the field.”
“Ah so I do see why you want me to stay after all.” he nodded his head “By the way, what kind of shield are we talking about?”
“Oh it's a special one. I think it was based off a movie? You know how they are with superhero movies lately. And given how bright pink it was I'm guessing Captain Barbie or someth-” but you didn't even get to complete your sentence when a yelp left your lips and soon laughter followed. His fingers moved swiftly as he tickled your sides but you were faster at swatting his hands away.
“Fine, fine. Not a fan of cinema, I see.” you shook your head with a sigh.
“Yeah, forgive me, but we all have flaws. Even me. Is that the real reason why you want me out of here as soon as possible, maybe?” he raised an eyebrow.
“You've got me. Deep down I cannot stand the fact.” you shrugged innocently, but the smile on your lips betraying what you felt.
“Man, I feel the love. You all are glad I came back alive from returning the stones I see.” he said only as a joke, focusing back to gathering the papers filled with older drawings that he had on his table.
“... I am glad you are still here, though, Steve.” you said softly and he looked over his shoulder at you again. This time he didn't just pause, he let go of the papers and turned to face you.
“Where else would I be?” this time a frown set on his face, more serious than any other you'd seen on his face so far, because he understood what your words meant “This is where my family is.”
“Well, yeah, but I mean-” you bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged “There still were more options. More than you had before.”
“More options, yes. A need for a choice? No. I'm good, more than good. And I wouldn't change a thing about what I have here...” he shrugged softly, looking at you carefully almost with calculating eyes before he started speaking again “I mean, save for one thing I suppose. There is always-”
“Don't. Don't you even-” you gave him a sharp look, fast enough to cut him off “Not unless you want me to kick your ass out of here, right now.” you shook your head, lowering your voice “We agreed we wouldn't talk about it. You promised me you wouldn't bring it up again, Steve. You promised.”
You adored your best friend, you honestly did, but moments like this you really wished you had not told him a single word. Not that he wouldn't have figured it out by himself. He was a persistent man, standing by his opinion no matter what. And this time, seeing as he was somehow convinced your feelings could be reciprocated, he did everything in his power to convince you to act on them. He was the only one that knew the truth and you didn't really know if it was a blessing to have someone to talk to about it or a nightmare with how he acted.
“I try but it is too hard seeing how idiotic the two people closest to me can be.” he crossed his arms over his chest, making you frown for a moment in confusion “And I'm still having a hard time understanding why. I get that you have trouble opening up to people, more than just get it. I know how it is. I'm not the most open person exactly, either, and the thought of getting attached to someone is terrifying given the job we do. But it's not just someone, someone random, we're talking about here. There is nothing to be shy abo-”
“I'm not shy about a damn thing, Steve, stop saying that.” you huffed, giving him a hard look “I'm a grown-ass woman who has saved your ass and the world at the same time, more times than I can count. I'm not some schoolgirl to be shy or crushing or daydreaming or whatever word you wanna use again about- about me and you-kow-who.” the fact that you couldn't even say your name for fear of him somehow being around and hearing did make you look no more mature than a schoolgirl.
“All I'm saying is that if you opened up more, you may be surprised in ways that you couldn't even imagine.”
“Oh like him telling me he feels the same? Well, let's see: you are his best friend, practically his brother. He confides in you, trusts you with his life and everything important to him. Has he told you he sees me as anything more than a friend?”
“Well, he-” he paused “No, not really. He doesn't seem to want to talk much about it... you, with me. Like when I bring you up he gets too stiff but I- I see the way he looks at you! He may not admit it-”
“Because there is probably nothing to admit! It's all in your mind and I can't get my hopes up over just a feeling, Steve.”
“Look, all I'm saying is-” he sighed, shaking his head “All this- All this waiting, and pining because you know that's what this is-” he pointed a finger at you before you could get to retort “You know that's exactly what this is! Waiting and hoping it- it goes away somehow? That your feelings for him are something that will just pass like a scratch on knee, or that you'll cover it up and it will be like they don't exist? This is not how it works. You have to try your chance because if you don't then you'll only live to regret it, and I know you will the same I know it's not something that goes away. He may not see it, but I do. And the way you look at Buc-” he stopped himself when your eyes widened, he sighed instead and raised his arms in surrender “The way you look at him, the way you care and-” he stopped himself, shaking his head before slowly approaching you again.
“For god's sake, the way you love, (Y/n), that is not something that can easily be found. This love that you have in you, this big heart that you are so willing to give without a second thought, the care and selfless devotion is- it's one of a kind.” he slowly wrapped his arms around you, looking you carefully in the eyes “You are one of a kind. And anyone that has even part of your love should thank his lucky stars because it is a blessing to be loved by a woman like you. Waiting is one thing, but to be loved like this and not know it, it would be the biggest tragedy in one's life, (Y/n).”
You knew he was only saying everything because he wanted to help you out, to give you a push as gentle as possible towards the right direction. How right was it for you to confess to his best friend that you've always had feelings for him for so long and possible ruin the dynamics and relation you'd built with all of them (besides making a terrible fool of yourself), you didn't know. You were scared to even think of telling him the truth when you could barely utter a few words in his presence because of that treacherous heart of yours that jumped around like crazy whenever he was near.
“Says the world's leading authority on waiting too long.” you mumbled as a weak excuse, knowing he was right, and let your head rest on his chest as he tightened the hold around your waist.
“Yeah, well, speaking from experience I suppose.” he kissed the top of your head “I just want you to be happy, you know how important you are to me. And I would hate to-”
He didn't, however, get to finish his sentence when another voice was heard “Hey, Steve, you done with those-” but his words were also cut off as he breathed a low, gruff “Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.”
“Wha- No, hey, Buck. Not interrupting.” Steve gave his friend a soft smile, pulling away from you and giving you a chance to take a goo look at his friend, and a good look you did take “Just having a word here with (Y/n). Sorry to keep you guys waiting.”
“No I uh should've thought so. Judging from the heartfelt words and all that. I shouldn't have assumed you were talking to yourself, I suppose.” he was mostly speaking to Steve but his eyes were mostly on you, a soft smile on his lips though it didn't reflect on his eyes at all. After barely half a beat, he spoke to you “Hey (Y/n). How you've been?”
“Hello Bucky.” you smiled as well, your throat closing up “Good, you?” you asked and he gave you a soft nod, without taking his eyes off you. Not that you did either. How could you?
Even if somebody were to warn you about it, it would never be able enough to prepare you for what you were seeing. You always knew and would easily admit that the man was good-looking, but this- this even more attractive than you could even imagine. You had seen photos of him back in the days, with his hair shorter and his face on full display, but to see him in person was a whole other thing. It took your breath away to have his eyes fully on you and not for a second hidden. It felt like his whole face was more open, even though his features were still somewhat clouded; the weight on his shoulders wouldn't go away anytime soon that was for sure. But to be able to be like the man he was back then was more than in looks, he could slowly feel like him again.
“Because that would have made so much sense now, wouldn't it?” Steve spoke up.
“Probably. I don't know, I just heard the last sentence anyway, so-” he shrugged, his eyes only stealing a glimpse at you before looking away in what seemed like guilt which you could not understand “Apologies about that. If you guys wanna stay alone some more, I can go by the car and wa-”
“Nah we're good here, all that lady's been doing is distract me anyway.” Steve shot you a playful look “Maybe you can help me out here a bit. I'll take this bag to the car and (Y/n) can tell what else we need from the desk.”
“Alright, I-” Bucky hesitated only for a second, his eyebrows pulling into a frown when Steve all-too-eagerly grabbed his only full bag of clothes and left his room, all excited to leave you alone with Bucky and you would have glared at him if you didn't feel terrified “There he goes.” Bucky sighed before turning to you with a soft smile “Ok, so is there anything you need help with?”
“I uh ye-yeah. Steve was gonna gather his drawings next so given they're important we could... do that.” you breathed out a little hastily but also in a low voice as you rushed to get to the desk. Bucky didn't say a word himself, only letting the tense silence hang in the air; while you struggled on the inside to come up with something good enough. It wasn't just that you were shy or quiet, you were always so unsure of what was best to say to the man, fearing you'd mess it up or make a fool of yourself.
“He's got plenty of these, must have felt really inspired hm?” Bucky spoke in a soft voice, looking over at the drawings Steve had done of you. You got distracted for a moment, taking the warmth in his eyes and the smile that look bittersweet if not sad on his face.
“Uh yeah.” you cleared your throat “It was around the time I was trying to get him back to drawing after I found his art. I was a bit shy about it at first but I suppose they're good.”
“His art always was, he's got a way of bringing things to life, capturing things in a different way but this-” he pause, looking up to meet your eyes, locking them in a look that only made your knees weak if the small distance hadn't already “It would never even compare to the real thing. That is one of a kind. You've always been anyway, I don't think there is a single person that knows you and could deny that.”
“I- I'm not that special.” you could feel the heat rise up on your cheeks and forced yourself to look down.
“I didn't just say special. I said one of a kind, unique. As is... everything about you. But then again, Steve has always been lucky without even knowing it.”
Glancing at him you did notice the honesty in his eyes, the warmth that almost reached out to you like that of the sun. If it weren't for his words that had your heart hammering in your chest, you would have paid more attention to the way his smile didn't really reach his eyes or the longing with which he looked at you.
“I suppose.” you mumbled, though you couldn't understand the meaning behind his last sentence. Letting the silence fill the room again you desperately searched for something else to say. You didn't speak much with Bucky but you wanted – despite your fear – to be the one to keep the conversation going because the truth was you loved talking with him “You look good, you got a haircut.”
Well, when you weren't making a fool of yourself that is.
Bucky paused for a moment, looking at you and you really braced yourself for him to laugh at you and call you out on what a stupid thing that was to say. But instead all you got a smile that you would be damned if it wasn't shy. It was almost too sweet for your heart to take, and the way he ducked his head as if some bashful... schoolboy (you almost laughed at the word that came up in your mind) had your breath getting caught up in your throat once more. You had never seen this side of Bucky. Never.
“Yeah I uh-” he smiled, fully smiled, and your own heart jumped to your throat “I thought that maybe it was time for a change. I didn't know if I could pull it off again after all these years but I-”
“No” you whispered “No, you're- you look great, really, Buck.” you confessed softly and his smile only got bigger “Not that you didn't before, don't get me wrong. You just look like you did back in the days. I- I saw a couple photos of you and Steve, and it's- it's good. Real good.” you gave him a small nod, which he return.
The smile stayed on his lips as he admitted “Yeah, truth is Steve was the one that insisted on it for some reason.” some reason, yeah, more like you saying how good Bucky looked with short hair better yet.
“Well, I'm glad you took that choice. It does look great. And... not that I think you had any trouble before, but now you'll have all the ladies swooning over you, you will barely have time for us.”
“That would never happen, never. I would never put anyone else before you.” he spoke with so much sincerity that you had to look away for a second because of the intensity “Besides-” he cleared his throat “Looking forward to go on double dates or something? I figured you and Steve wouldn't have time for us.”
“Steve, probably, he's got a lot on his plate now. But what do I have to do with any of it?”
“I just-” he shrugged softly, frowning “I figured that moving in a new place is... a lot.”
“It is... hence Steve having a lot on his plate. I still don't get what I have to do with that? I mean, sure, I'm his best pal besides you and Sam, but it's not like I'm moving in with him or anything.” you shrugged with an smile, focusing for a few moments on the drawings before you.
“Oh I thought-” he paused, nodding his head before he let out a soft breath “Well, I suppose I was just assuming. It's not like... this changes anything, right?” his words were so hesitant that it confused for a second.
“...No? Why would it? Steve is still Steve. Things are and will continue to be the way they've always been.”
“I mean-” he cleared his throat again, shifting in his place “You two are good right? Like, together and all that, you're good?”
“Just like we've always been, Buck, I don't understand why you're asking this. Honestly... Is there something not right with you, maybe?” you asked softly, trying to meet his eyes even though he avoided it.
“No, why would there be?” he swallowed thickly, nodding to himself “And besides, I should've thought so.” he offered you a smile, albeit weak “He wouldn't have given up a chance with... A chance to the life he would've had for something that's not important. As far as that is concerned, I don't blame him. I would do the same.”
“You... you mean Peggy, don't you?”
“I-” he shrugged softly “I didn't really wanna mention her in case... Well, he did leave her for you. He stayed here, didn't go back to live his life with her. Which, again, is the right choice. To tell you the truth, I feared for a moment that we wouldn't see him come back from that time travel unless he was graying and old.” feared, and that terrible part of himself that was too selfish, hoped he would stay back in time to have his life with Peggy so that Bucky could maybe get a chance with you in case-
“But he did come back.” you whispered “And he did it for all of us, there's no reason to give me all the credit, Bucky.”
“I mean, you're still the main reason. And as I said, he did make the right choice. Hell, I know that if he had even so considered staying back there, I would have kicked his ass for it. But I guess I'm more than glad you two are so good like this, that I didn't need to.” liar, he knew he was such a big liar for saying all of it.
“Main reason, yeah sure.” you breathed out a laugh, feeling proud with yourself for how casual you sounded “Just say what's on your mind, Buck. Steve's so tired of my single sorry ass that he had to stay here to make sure I don't end up being a crazy cat lady. I mean can I blame him? No. I can't even tell the guy I... the guy I like how I feel about him.” you shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
You were saying things you never thought you would, but feeling bold maybe you would slowly get somewhere in the end “I'm sure Steve's just gonna snap one of these days and tell him 'She likes you you idiot, for fuck's sake do something cause I'm sick and tired listening to her talk about you non-stop.' and I'm not even joking. That will be it, word for word. So-” you let out a low laugh “I better hold him back huh?”
“What?” you did expect to see such a dark and serious look to meet you when you finally looked at him “What did you just say (Y/n)?”
“That... you know, with me being single all this time, Steve might try to set me up with- I'm sorry.” you shook your head “Did I say something wrong? Was it something that I-”
“You're... what?” his voice was so gruff that you felt even more worried.
But before you could voice your concerns, your best friend was walking inside the room again “Sorry for the delay, though I suppose you guys barely noticed my-” but he stopped himself when he was met with the hardest glare you had seen Bucky give his friend “Uh is everything alright?”
“We'll see about that.” his voice was deep “Come on. You. Me. Talk. You have lots explaining to do.” he took a deep breath, looking at you for a few too long seconds too many emotions on his face for you to tell apart, before looking back at his friend “And it's been long overdue.”
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snelbz · 3 years
Text
I'll Be Seeing You {2}
Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU
Collaboration with @tacmc​
Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.
Trigger Warnings: war
A/N: Enjoy a surprise chapter a couple days early, we’re just too excited for y’all to read this story.
Chapters will be posted every Monday.
Word Count: 2336
IBSY Masterlist
Shelby’s Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist 
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Nesta was making her rounds as the sun set outside of their desolate war camp.
It had been a long day, one filled with losses. After the ambush two days prior, their tent had become full. Now, there were far too many empty beds.
It never became easier.
With every soul that she attempted to heal that passed from this world to the next, she felt like a failure, even though it was impossible to save every soldier that had been injured in the heart of battle.
There were victories, though.
Those who were left in the tent were improving.
The ambush had brought in nearly fifty injured soldiers, and just over twenty of them remained.
Including Corporal Cassian Nazari, who she was walking up to now, a glass of water in hand.
He blinked a few times against the light of the guttering candle on the table, but after a moment his eyes settled on her. Settled, but still glazed with pain.
“Nurse Nesta,” he said, voice rasping from sleep, attempting to resituate himself in the uncomfortable bed, with one good arm. “Is it time for my sponge bath already?”
She sighed through her nose and closed her eyes, resisting the urge to rub her temples.
Most men in the infirmary were polite, respectful, grateful to be taken care of, especially knowing what befell their fellow soldiers who hadn’t been quite as lucky as they were. The first day she’d attended to the corporal, she’d assumed his inappropriate comment about foreplay had been some sort of unintended joke, something he hadn’t been able to control as he awoke.
But as Cassian slowly healed, Nesta learned those little comments were quite regular for him. And when he learned that they made her blush, or even snap at him occasionally, it only made him say them more frequently.
“I’ll give you a bucket and a sponge and you may help yourself,” she quipped. “Does that interest you?”
He laughed, quietly, but winced as it seemed the simple shaking of his shoulders brought a bout of pain. “You’re in a good mood today.”
“Why do you think that?” she asked.
“You joke with me,” Cassian said, shrugging a shoulder. “You joke when you’re in a good mood.”
“I don’t joke,” she replied. “I only give back what is given to me, even though I do it in a far more appropriate way.”
“There are worse things than being inappropriate,” Cassian promised her.
Nesta simply shook her head. “Here.”
He took the pill from her palm and took it, swallowing it with the glass of water she gave him. For a moment, his eyes closed and he sighed, deeply.
“How are you feeling today?” She asked, sitting down in the chair next to the table. He opened his eyes and she reached out to feel his head. He had been feverish the night before, and she was worried about infection setting in.
He was just as clammy as he’d been, if not more so. There was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, but before she said anything, she wanted to hear it from him. Even if she was fairly sure it would be a lie laced with male bravado.
“Fine,” he replied, though he attempted to sit up with one arm again and winced. “Like I could get back on the battlefields right now.”
Rolling her eyes, she stood. “Too bad that won’t be happening yet.”
She strode for the medicine cabinet in the center of the tent, aiming for an antibiotic strong enough to stave off the infection. His own inability to keep still had led she and Madja to band his fractured arm to his side, but this kept the bullet wounds on his back from airing out. It was about choosing the lesser of two evils with this man it seemed.
Last night, they’d elected to set his arm. Tonight, it seemed he’d go back in the sling and she’d see what needed tending to on his back.
“Are you allergic to penicillin, Corporal?” Nesta asked, coming back to his cot.
“Not that I’m aware of, but I have a feeling that we’re about to find out for certain,” he noted, chuckling, then breaking into a cough fit.
“Alright,” she sighed, and pulled him fully into sitting position. “It seems you still have a fever. I’m going to give you this penicillin. Then, I’m going to take off your bandages and clean your wounds.”
“And then?” he asked.
Nesta blinked, hesitating as she a needle with the drug. “Pardon?”
“After you clean my wounds, what will you do?” Cassian asked, that sly smile remaining. “Because I have a few ideas-.”
“Corporal,” Nesta interrupted. “I am here to heal you, and nothing more.”
Cassian lifted a brow. “First of all, it’s Major, actually. It’s been years since I was a corporal. Secondly, I thought we could play a card game. What was it you were thinking?” Nesta’s cheeks heated and she ignored his pointed question. “My apologies, but Private Hale said—.”
“He knows nothing, which is why he’s only a private.”
She cleared her throat and held out her hand, letting him take the two pills in her palm. He did so, without any commentary, which Nesta took as a blessed relief.
She retrieved the sling his arm had previously been in, as well as fresh bandages, an ewer of fresh water and a bottle of antiseptic.
And a bit to put between his teeth in case the pin became too unbearable.
With a few tugs on the knots tying them together, Nesta unwrapped his arm from his body, not taking a full look at his back yet.
Almost immediately, Cassian tried to stretch out his arm, which earned him a chastising look from Nesta. “It’s tight,” he defended.
“If you move it too much before it’s had time to set and heal, tight will be the least of your worries, Major,” she replied, carefully tying the two ends of the fabric sling around his neck. “Not to mention your shoulder is still too weak as well. Do you want to dislocate it again?”
He grumbled something that sounded similar to No, ma’am, and sat still while Nesta settled his arm into place.
Once she tended to his arm, she prepared herself to examine his back again.
“This isn’t going to feel good,” she warned, taking in the angry, red skin puckering the edges of the wounds. They’d been able to retrieve the bullets while he was unconscious, but they weren’t in the most ideal and clean conditions for a healing to take place. Gently pressing her fingers around the mildest looking one earned a hiss and sudden jerk from Cassian. As well as puss, far more puss than Nesta was expecting. “I’m going to have to clean these out.”
“Can’t you give me more of that stuff that put me under and do what you need to do?”
His words weren’t unkind, but the tone… Nesta knew he was in pain.
She could, of course, but the powdered pain killer was much stronger than what she’d already administered. Not to mention is much, much shorter supply. It was reserved for surgeries, mostly, or life-threatening injuries.
An injury like the major had been brought in with at the time.
Not for a standard, but nasty, infection, unfortunately.
War was unfair, Nesta decided then. She’d known it for quite a while, watching good men die for their lands, but it was evident in that moment as she looked at the man’s ravaged back before her.
“Unfortunately, no,” she said, at last. “But I promise to work quickly.”
He gave her a curt nod and braced himself.
The alcohol burned, she knew that, she knew that it had to feel like fire was being lit to the surface of the skin, but as she poured the alcohol over the wound and began to clean it, the only sense of pain that Cassian showed was his rigid posture.
“Bear with me,” Nesta muttered, beginning to rebandage the wound.
“Got any whiskey?” he asked.
Despite herself, Nesta snorted. “No, I don’t. Is that your drink of choice, major?”
She was trying to distract him, trying to make the time go by just a little bit quicker as she worked.
“Usually,” he said, and huffed. “Every now and then I like to order a simple lager.”
“Lager,” she repeated. “What a luxury.”
“It has been a while,” he agreed.
She worked in silence for a few minutes, having to go so far as to scrape out the bits of skin that were too far gone and only likely to slow down the healing process. But when his breathing became ragged as she started on the worst of the wounds, the one right near his spine, she asked, “What’s the first meal you’re going to have when you get home? What have you been dreaming of since you enlisted?”
Mindless chatter, she reminded herself, was just as effective as a painkiller.
He was quiet for a moment, only hissing as she pressed the alcohol-soaked rag to his back. She had accepted he wasn’t going to answer when he softly asked, “Don’t you mean if?”
She was suddenly very thankful that she was working on his back and was unable to see his face. Playing dumb, she kept him talking. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“Don’t you mean if I get home?” He asked. His voice was hollow, lacking the warmth it usually did when he spoke. It was unlike what she’d started to grow accustomed to. “This is a war we’re in the middle of, ma’am.”
She cleared her throat, continuing to work. “I think you ought to change your manner of speech, major, or you’ll be more likely to conscribe yourself to believe the worst.” Pressing a clean bandage to his skin to staunch the bleeding, she asked, “Now about that meal, sir?”
Surprising her, he laughed, quietly. “I guess I haven’t thought about it too much. My mother used to make a mean pork roast. With carrots and potatoes. That would hit the spot right about now.”
Nesta couldn’t help but lick her lips at the thought of a nice, hot, homemade dinner. “How about dinner rolls?”
Cassian hummed. “My mom used to make the fluffiest dinner rolls. She used to make me roll the dough. I hated it, until it was time to eat them.”
She smiled to herself. “My sister Elain loves to bake. She makes this pear crumble…” Shaking her head, she sighed. “It’s the best. Especially when she whips cream to put on top.”
“I don’t remember the last time I had a warm dessert,” he admitted, wincing as she applied antibacterial cream to the wounds. Turning to glance at her, he amended, “Actually, I don’t remember the last time I had a hot meal.”
The words hurt Nesta’s heart. The food they had in the med camps weren’t great, but she was sure they were better than rations the soldiers were issued.
“Tell me more about your sister,” he breathed, clearly needing the distraction while she worked.
Nesta sighed. “Which one?”
“How many do you have?” he asked.
“Two,” Nesta said. “Couldn’t be more opposite of one another. Feyre, the youngest, would rather spend her time painting, or outdoors in the woods behind our house, while Elain prefers to spend her time baking, or in her garden.”
Cassian nodded, thoughtfully. “And you?”
“What of me?” she asked, beginning to rebandage his wounds.
“What do you prefer to do with your time?” he pushed.
Nesta’s hands slowed. She wished she had more time to fill as of late. “I enjoy reading, I suppose.”
“You suppose?” he asked, then chuckled.
“What’s so funny about that?” Nesta asked, eyes narrowed at the back of his head.
“You either do or you don’t,” he said, shrugging, and wincing from the simple motion. “But, you suppose.”
Nesta scoffed. “Fine. I enjoy reading.”
“What manner of books?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Romance.”
He snorted. “Of course. Let me guess, a knight in shining armor, coming to rescue a damsel in distress?”
Nesta’s cheeks heated as his guess was nearly spot on of the plot of one of the tattered, well-loved books she kept in the small bag she brought with her from home. “And what’s so wrong with a knight saving a lady who needs help?”
“Nothing,” he replied, trying to shift his hurt arm. She adjusted the sling to hold him tighter. “I just think it’s a silly ideal to hold. Not everyone is going to have someone come save them.”
She was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were in a med camp in the middle of war.
“I guess you’re right,” she mused. “But I don’t see why that should stop anyone from dreaming.”
Cassian huffed and said nothing more.
When Nesta was finished, she asked, “How does that feel?”
“As good as it can,” he answered, in grumpy sincerity. “Although, I still wouldn’t mind that sponge bath.”
“Has anyone ever told you how ridiculously impossible you are?” she asked, the words flying out of her mouth before she could think better of it.
Cassian’s smile only grew. “If only you knew.”
Nesta’s chin rose as she tried to make sense of his remark, but she asked, “Can I get you anything else for the time being?” Cassian opened his mouth, but Nesta interrupted with, “Nothing that has to do with sponges.”
He laughed, quietly. “A cure for boredom?”
Just as Nesta was getting ready to reply, a cry came from just outside the tent, and her body was tensing, preparing itself. Madja’s eyes connected with hers, and Nesta’s feet were immediately in motion.
Another body coming in, caught in warfare.
It seemed he would have to entertain himself, as Nesta was once again vividly reminded that no one may ever come to save her.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t save someone else.
158 notes · View notes
seijorhi · 4 years
Text
Outrunning Fate
As promised (though I am more than a little late for Shiratorizawa Week), the soulmate AU
Tendou x female reader x Ushijima
TW stalking, possessive behaviour, implied non-con
Soulmates were supposed to be a blessing.
It was a fairytale that you’d grown up hearing about. One person who was supposed to be wholly yours.
Your parents were soulmates, even if you hadn’t always understood the concept, the proof of that remarkable, unshakable bond was always right in front of you. It wasn’t in the big grand gestures, it was little things - the soft, adoring look in your father’s eye as your mother passed him his coffee every morning, the way she always sought out his touch when they were together, even if it was just to twine her fingers with his, or the way that they always seemed to be able to sense when the other was upset, and wordlessly found the perfect way to comfort them.
Your father never had to tell you that he loved your mother, but he did, every single day. He told her too, just to see her smile.
It seemed effortless, easy, as if their love for one another was as natural as breathing. How could you be blamed for looking at your bare wrist, waiting for the day that name would appear in scrawling black ink, feeling that excited fluttering in your chest because you knew one day you’d meet your soulmate and have that perfect, fairytale love all for yourself.
Except it wasn’t like that.
Something went wrong.
***
You’re fifteen and barely paying attention in class when your skin prickles uncomfortably. Your heart leaps into your chest as you tug up the sleeve off your blazer, watching wide eyed with bated breath as a name appears on your wrist.
Tendou Satori.
The beginnings of a smile start to curl at your lips, but it freezes in place as more inky black writing appears below the first.
Ushijima Wakatoshi.
A second name. 
And suddenly, it feels like your perfectly crafted world begins to fall apart. Two soulmates aren’t unheard of, but they’re incredibly rare and you can’t deny that there’s a certain… stigma attached to it. 
What kind of a person isn’t satisfied with just one? 
This is supposed to be some magical, thrilling moment for you, but instead all you can focus on is the pounding of your heart and the growing wave of nausea that rises in the back of your throat. Quickly you yank your sleeve back down and before you can even think to stutter an apology to your bewildered teacher, you’re out of your seat and sprinting down the hallway to the bathroom. You barely make it before hurling up your guts. 
After that, you start wearing long sleeves wherever you go.
It’s not that you’re ashamed, you tell yourself as you bite your lip and try your utmost to fade into the background whenever the topic comes up in conversation, it’s just that… other people aren’t always so accepting.
You’ve tried to get used to the disgusted looks, the invasive questions and the insults that follow you wherever you go, but it’s easier said than done. You hate that your cheeks still burn scarlet whenever you catch someone staring at your marks, almost as much as you hate the way you quickly duck your head in shame and race to fix your sleeve.
‘It’s okay, honey. I know it’s not what you expected but… it just means there’s one more person out there waiting to love you with everything they have. You’re twice as lucky as the rest of us,’ your father had told you on that horrible day. You just wished it hadn’t sounded like he was trying to convince himself at the same time.
***
You’re seventeen and the first boy who kisses you tries to shove your hand down his pants because he knows you’ve got two names on your wrist, and that means you’re up for anything, right?
You run home with tears streaming down your face and when you shower that night you scrub at the marks like you’re trying to erase them entirely.
What did having two names mean really? That one wasn’t enough? Would they be content sharing you? Would they even know of the other’s existence?
You could only imagine how horrifying it would be for them, spending months, years waiting for you only to realise that they didn’t really have all of you…
Would they hate you? Could you even blame them if they did?
Sometimes… sometimes you think it might be better if you didn’t have a soulmate at all, instead of this. It’s easier just to ignore it, pretend they don’t exist, pretend that you’re not gonna ruin their lives. Who knows, maybe you’ll be one of those few who never actually meet their soulmates. You can live with that, you think. You have a family who love you, a bunch of close friends who’d die for you - who needs stupid soulmates?
***
It’s the morning after your 18th birthday, your head is still pounding from the alcohol and bad decisions from the night before when your curiosity finally gets the better of you. It’s the modern age, most people live their lives online, you figure you’ll find a facebook page, a twitter account maybe.
Instead, the first item that comes up in your search is a video. It’s a news segment about a volleyball game - some high school team that you’ve never heard of, but you listen to the commentator talk and your heart leaps into your throat because they mention the Ace by name and suddenly there he is. Tall, dark haired and imposing - Ushijima Wakatoshi.
But you don’t even have a moment to breathe, to focus on the absolute beast that is your second soulmate and his terrifying spike because the camera shifts and suddenly there’s another player in focus. Tall, gangly with bright, spiky red hair and a too-wide grin, “-not the only player in the spotlight after today’s match; Shiratorizawa’s middle blocker, the so called ‘Guess Monster’ Tendou Satori-”
You close the browser window and slam your laptop shut.
They’re… friends, or teammates at the very least.
It feels like a bad dream you can’t wake up from. This whole thing is already messy enough, but you can’t get in the middle of that, you refuse to make everything worse for them just because the fates have decided to play a cruel joke on you.
If there were any lingering doubt left in your mind that you’re better off burying your soulmates, they’re well and truly put to bed.
That night, you dream of a cheering crowd, the thwack of a volleyball ricocheting off a vinyl floor and two menacing figures looming over you.
With your final exams around the corner, it’s almost too easy to put the video and your soulmates out of your mind as you throw yourself into studying. Months pass in the blink of an eye and suddenly you’re dressed in black robes and holding your high school diploma. You celebrate with your friends, dancing wildly with a care-free grin long into the night because you know you’re finally getting out of there for good. Tokyo’s a big city, you’ll lose yourself there and nobody, not a single damned soul, will know about the two names that grace your wrist. It’s as close to freedom as you’re ever gonna get - and god that makes you so fucking happy.
Your bags are packed and you’re holding your parents as they sob and then, like that, you’re gone. 
Tokyo awaits.
***
It’s not that easy to outrun fate.
Living in Tokyo ain’t cheap, even for the shitty little shoebox apartment you rent while you’re studying. You manage to find a job at one of the Americanised diner style cafes just down the road from where you live two weeks after moving in. It’s popular with students because it’s open till late, the coffee’s good and the waffles are exactly what the doctor ordered after a long night of drinking with your friends. You’re just happy because the pay’s pretty decent and your boss lets you bring in your laptop and textbooks so you can study when it’s not too busy. You’re not nearly as thrilled about the short, revealing blue dress that serves as your uniform, but you know when to pick your battles.
It’s a little after one o’clock on a slow Tuesday night, the cafe’s almost empty and you’re propped up on your elbows along the countertop, absentmindedly thumbing through one of your assigned readings for class tomorrow when you hear the tell-tale chime of the door opening.
You hastily shove your books aside, plastering a wide if not a little artificial smile across your face, you glance up to greet the customers, only to freeze in place.
Your heart skips a beat.
Of all the cafes in the sprawling city, of course your soulmate has to walk into this one.
With his wild, spiked red hair and easy, sloping grin, Tendou’s unmistakable as he strides through the cafe with two other guys you can only assume are his friends. You suppose you should be a little relieved that he barely spares you a glance as the threesome make a beeline for one of the corner booths, but it’s hard to feel anything other than blind panic at the sight of your soulmate only a few feet away. It’s purely out of habit that you reach for your wrist and the skin coloured bandage hiding your traitorous marks, and you allow yourself to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief when you feel it still in place.
A loud cackle bursts through the quiet atmosphere of the cafe and you dart a glance over to see Tendou with his head thrown back laughing at something one of the others has said. There’s an uncomfortable fluttering in your stomach and your cheeks redden just a touch. It’s not an awful sound (not at all), but your pulse is racing and you think you just might be sick because this is all… too much.
You’d left them in the past along with whatever fairytale fantasies you thought having a soulmate would bring. You… you’re happy being alone and coping just fine without either one of them! They were a dream - a distant possibility you’d long since locked away, you weren’t supposed to ever actually see them!
At least it’s only Tendou, you think you might actually combust if they were both here. Still, there’s a faint tremor in your hand as you brush a lock of hair out of your face and try to regain control of your breathing.
As much as you’d like to run, or preferably, have the earth suddenly open up and swallow you whole, you know you can’t. For one, you’re the only server left until close and your boss might be easy going but somehow you doubt he’d let you keep your job after a stunt like that. More importantly, you have a sinking suspicion that causing a fuss will only draw his attention and that’s the last thing you want. He doesn’t know who you are, your mark is safely tucked away under your bandages, this will be fine.
It’s an hour and a half until close, he and his friends will get some food, eat, drink and chat amongst themselves and then you can kick them out and it’ll all be over. You barely have to interact with him. For all he knows you’re just a server in a random cafe - this will be fine.
Robotically you force your legs to move, carrying you towards your oblivious soulmate. You’re pretty sure that your smile’s a little off and you haven’t quite managed to quell the shaking in your hands as you reach for your notepad, flipping it open.
It’s the best you can do, especially when there’s a voice inside your head that’s all but begging for you to turn around and pretend this whole thing never happened. 
Tendou appears to be thoroughly engrossed in whatever story he’s telling his friends, waving his arms around wildly when you reach their table. Normally you’d clear your throat politely and wait for them to settle down before introducing yourself and asking for their order, but when you open your mouth - nothing comes out. It’s like your whole throat has suddenly dried up and you’re just standing there gaping like an idiot, but Tendou hasn’t even noticed.
The ashy blonde to his left, however, does. His eyes flicker to you and you swear that you can see the faintest trace of amusement as he takes you in. He smirks, quickly shoving an elbow into the redhead’s side and jerking his chin in your direction. 
“Hey loudmouth, pipe down would you?”
Your breath catches as he turns around to look up at you and grins, “Ah, sorry. Didn’t see ya there!” 
The other two have picked up their menus again, but for whatever reason just as Tendou’s gaze starts to slide off of you, something catches his attention and stops him in his tracks. Like a magpie spotting something shiny in the distance, those big, droopy red eyes suddenly widen and zero back in with unnerving interest. Frozen with that fake, half hearted smile painted across your lips you feel strangely like a bug caught under a microscope as Tendou studies you - there’s really no other way to describe it. His head tilts to the side and he makes a low noise from the back of his throat that almost sounds pleased.
He can’t know, there’s no possible way, but if he doesn’t then why the hell is he staring at you like that?
It’s all you can do to remain rooted in place, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs that you’re sure they have to be able to hear it too. Whatever he’s searching for he apparently finds because his grin widens and he leans back in his seat and chuckles. “Why’d you look so nervous, we’re not gonna bite - promise!” 
The other guy at the table rolls his eyes, “Tendou, don’t scare the pretty waitress, she’s just trying to do her job,” he chastises, offering you an apologetic smile that does little to ease your nerves. “Don’t mind him, he’s an idiot, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
You swallow and hum in faint acknowledgment, and he takes that as a sign to begin his order. 
You were hoping that they were just going to get some drinks and be out of your hair, but as he starts listing off various snacks and appetizers to share and the ashy blonde throws out a few more, it looks like your nightmare is only just beginning.
You nod dutifully, writing it all down. The cook is just going to love you for this, but there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. “Anything else?” you ask in a voice that just barely passes for what your boss deems ‘customer service appropriate’, decidedly not looking towards the redhead who is still staring at you.
He hasn’t looked at the menu once since you walked over, actually you doubt he’s looked at the menu at all, but it doesn’t seem to matter because he pipes up regardless, “Yep, one of those thickshakes, you know - the really good strawberry one, annnd-”
“Y/N, order up!!”
Your soul leaves your body at the exact same moment that Tendou’s pupils dilate and snap to your wrist.
The pen in your hand is shaking, your grip so tight that it’s a wonder the flimsy plastic doesn’t shatter as you turn to glance over your shoulder. The cook is leaning out across the overpass, staring at you with a scowl and vaguely you register the hot plate of food in front of him which can’t have been sitting there for more than a minute at the most. You give a weak nod, earning you a dismissive grunt in response, before turning back to the table.
All three of them are staring wide eyed and open mouthed at you. 
Fuck. 
They know. They have to know.
You should have legged it when you had the chance.
Breathe. Smile. Play dumb. This is fine.
“A-anything el-”
“Somethin’ wrong with your wrist?” Tendou asks slowly, eyeing the bandage like he wants nothing more than to snatch it up and rip it away from you. His fingers flex and you don’t even have time to brace before they’re shooting out towards you-
A hand catches his forearm before he can touch you - it’s his friend, the dark haired one with the crew cut, who’s currently staring down the erratic redhead with a distinct frown. 
It’s the blonde who speaks up, “Sorry, he’s had a few drinks tonight. The idiot sometimes forgets his manners in public.”
The music is still playing in the background, somebody laughs at the table a few down from theirs, but in this little pocket, trapped between the three of them with the tension thick enough to slice with a knife, the silence is oppressive.
And then Tendou’s attention shifts back to you and your stomach flips - it’s like the floor has disappeared beneath your feet and you’re suddenly careening through the empty air with no hope in hell of slowing down.
He looks… well, mad is the wrong word. Tendou is technically smiling, but his grin stretched slightly too wide, his eyes a little too intense. There’s an emotion you can’t name etched across his pale features, and it’s unsettling… it scares you a little, if you’re being honest.
You swallow and take a tiny, shaking breath. “I-it’s fine. I tripped last week and sprained it.”
“Clumsy, are you?” he asks, prying himself free of his friend’s grip.
A laugh forces its way out, grating and too sharp to be believable. “Yeah, I guess. Your food won’t be too long, if you need anything else, just- just let me know.”
You don’t give them a chance to respond as you all but flee the table. You’re shaking and almost in tears by the time you reach the kitchen, the cook takes one look at you, a grumpy admonishment on the tip of his tongue, and falters.
They stay until close, and you avoid them like the plague.
Hours later, lying tucked up in your bed your skin still prickles from the thought of Tendou’s piercing stare. Maybe if you’d kept some kind of a level head through it all instead of acting like a flustered school girl, he might have just passed it all off as a coincidence. 
But you hadn’t, had you?
It wasn’t just that he knew who you were to him (and to Ushijima) but that after all your blushing and stammering, the pitiful attempts at hiding your soulmate marks and the way you all but ran from him the very first moment you could, he had to know that you knew as well. That despite coming face to face with your soulmate, you lied - you rejected him.
You mom once told you that the first time she laid eyes on her soulmate the world stopped spinning and all she felt was joy. Maybe there’s something wrong with you after all, because despite the insistent tug in your heart, you just feel sick. Despite being exhausted after your long shift, sleep that night doesn’t come easy.
It’s two days later that you find yourself back in the cafe, working a rare day shift on your only week-days off from classes. You keep glancing up at the door every few minutes, half dreading the possibility that any moment, Tendou and his friends are going to walk in, but they don’t. 
Ushijima does, a little after the lunch rush dies down.
He looks so out of place against the vibrant backdrop of the 50’s style diner, all serious and stoic, that if he were anybody else you might think he was lost. 
But he isn’t lost, because he’s staring right at you.
You don’t notice one of your co-workers sliding up to you until they laugh and playfully nudge your side. “Ah, I see the eye candy is back. Try and pick up your jaw, Y/N,” they tease.
Back?
Instead of finding an empty table to sit himself down at (and give you a minute to mentally prepare) Ushijima is making his way straight over to the counter, unsmiling and huge. How was he even bigger in person?! He could crush you with his thighs alone!
“He’s been here before?” you ask quietly, unable to draw your gaze away from him. 
Your co-worker snorts. “Yeah, he came in last night, he even asked for you by name. Seemed kinda disappointed when I told him you weren’t on until today. You holding out on me, Y/N? I thought we were closer than that. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you start dating a hot ass dude!”
They slip away with a wink before you even have a chance to respond and you’re left floundering as Ushijima approaches. Your mouth is dry, your pulse racing. Just like with Tendou, you have no escape, nowhere you can run or hide.
He asked for you by name.
Fuck. You should have quit when you had the chance.
Ushijima isn’t smiling. Where Tendou had been beaming with chaotic energy from the moment he walked in, your second soulmate seems almost stony as he stares at you with serious olive eyes. You honestly can’t tell if he’s frowning or if that’s just the way his face is, but it makes your gut twist regardless. 
It might also be the fact that he’s towering over you without even trying to. He has to be at least 6’3” but it’s not just his height that’s imposing - he’s brawny and muscular and, yeah, huge. Briefly you remember the news clip you’d seen of him, the terrifying brute force behind his spike. 
He seems to be waiting for you to speak, so you swallow down the lump in your throat and try to remember how to breathe like a normal person. “Hi, can I get you anything?”
Something briefly flickers across his face, but otherwise his expression remains distressingly neutral. “… I would like some tea.”
You nod - it’s like pulling teeth. “Yeah, sure. We uh, we actually have a few different kinds…”
He makes a rough noise of acknowledgement and then… pauses. Instead of the menu, Ushijima studies you. His lips twitch into the faintest hint of a… smile? You can’t quite tell, but it looks out of place regardless. “I will have whichever you recommend.”
You can’t seem to be able to form words, so you settle with nodding, gesturing for him to take a seat while he waits. 
His eyes don’t shift from you, nor does he make any attempt to mask the fact that he’s staring right at you. When his tea is ready, you all but beg your co-worker to take it to him. 
“Trouble in paradise?” they ask, waggling their eyebrows.
“It’s not like that,” you mutter, but they take the tea regardless, and you busy yourself in wiping down tables and pretending that you can’t see the scowl from the volleyball player burning across the diner. 
It really isn’t. 
Even after tucking any thought of meeting your soulmates away there was always some tiny part of you - a part you were always so desperate to ignore - that wondered how it would feel to meet them, to be loved by them…
But while your heart squeezes with every glance, it’s not warm, dizzying bliss that floods your system and sends blood rushing to your cheeks. You don’t know what the feeling is that curls in your stomach and claws its way up your spine, but it’s nothing good. 
Something went wrong with you, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
Ushijima stays for an hour, finishes his tea and makes his way back to the counter to pay. 
He's wearing a grey hoodie, running gear underneath, and when he hands you the money, passing it directly into hands, his sleeve rides up. There, plain as day, is his soulmate mark.
Your name, written in black ink on Ushijima's wrist, forever marking you as his.
You jerk, flinching away from him, but he doesn’t make a move to cover it. 
“You cannot run from us, Y/N. We are your soulmates, we’re bound together.” His voice is little more than a murmur, but there’s an edge to it, sharp and pointed. Not so much a statement as a fact, as undeniable as your name on his skin, on Tendou’s.
He says it like it’s a promise, staring into your eyes with that impenetrable gaze and for a moment you forget how to breathe.
“Why are you so determined to fight it?”
You swallow, taking the cash from his hand and punching it into the till. “I’m sorry, whoever you think I am…” you trail off, finally raising your eyes to meet his penetrating stare. You’re quietly proud of the way your voice doesn’t shake, even as your heart races like a hummingbird in your chest and your palms sweat. “I’m not.”
The only sign that Ushijima hears you at all is the subtle furrowing of his brow and a distinctly displeased hum from the back of his throat. 
“I hope you enjoyed your tea.” The cutting barb slips from your lips before you can stop them, but there’s a certain vindictive satisfaction you get in watching his eyes widen, the brief hurt that flickers across his face. 
Of course, it only lasts a fraction of a second before his features school into a blank mask and he nods.
“Perhaps I will try another the next time I see you.”
And with a short bow, he walks away.
You leave your apron behind when you finish your shift at the diner, and you don’t come back.
There will be other jobs.
***
It’s not enough. 
They start showing around campus. 
The first time you catch sight of Tendou, you’re running between classing, cursing the ridiculous schedule that has you attending two back to back lectures on opposite sides of the campus. It’s just a glance - a flicker of red in the corner of your eye. The only reason you stop at all is because you're so focused on not being late that you fail to see the crack in the path until you’re tripping over it. The books in your hand go flying as you sprawl across the pavement.
“Huh, you really weren’t kidding about being clumsy, were ya?”
A pale hand stretches out before you, and just like with Ushijima, Tendou doesn’t bother hiding the soulmate mark as he grins down at you with those wide, creepy eyes. 
You ignore it entirely, waving it away as you pick yourself up with a grunt. The skin on one of your palms is grazed, and you’re pretty sure that your knees are too, but all in all it could be worse. It’s more your pride that smarts, that and the fact that of all people to see you trip, it has to be him.
“Aw, don’t be like that, baby. I’m only try’na help you!”
You scowl, snatching your textbooks out of his offered hands. “I’m not your baby, Tendou,” you mutter.
You regret the words immediately. His grin slowly widens and he makes a sound, somewhere between a shudder and a moan - it’s almost pornogaphic and wholly inappropriate and it sends blood rushing to your cheeks, but you don’t have time to think about it. 
“I’m already late, just-” you break off with a sigh, readjusting the strap of your backpack, staring resolutely at the ground. “I’m not what you want, what… what either of you want. Just leave me alone, okay?!”
Tendou doesn’t say a word as you walk away, but just like always you feel the burning stare following you until you’re out of sight. 
Somewhat stupidly, you think that’ll be the end of it. The gloves are off - you might not have said it in as many words, but there’s no point denying it any longer. They are your soulmates and it doesn’t change a thing.
There is something wrong with your bond.
But they don’t see it like that. 
They figure out your schedule, take it in turns to wait outside your classes, ambushing you whenever you’re alone. 
“I have a game tomorrow,” Ushijima tells you on a rainy Thursday afternoon as he follows you home. “I would like for you to come.”
It doesn’t seem to bother him that you walk a few steps ahead (or try to at least - his legs are ridiculously long) with your head bent down, ignoring the steady rainfall that threatens to saturate you. Tendou usually fights for your attention, grabs at your hands, your waist, any part he can reach just to touch you, but Ushiwaka seems content to merely be near - so long as you stray too far.
“I have exams to study for.”
He hums noncommittally, “Tendou will be there.”
All the more reason not to go. 
The silence between you two is heavy.
“It would make me… happy, if you came,” he tries again.
Your eyes squeeze shut for just a moment. You hate it when he does this, when he acts like you’re the one being stubborn. Like you haven’t told him, told them both to stop a thousand times before. Like they haven’t ignored it at every turn, blatantly refused to acknowledge that you don’t want them like they want you.
Shouldn’t ‘no’ have been enough?
You’ve considered reporting it to campus security, or even the police, maybe trying to get a restraining order or something like that, but what would you even say - ‘Please Officer, sir, my soulmates are stalking me’? Yeah, that’ll go down a real fucking treat. 
“Why…” you trail off with a sigh, forcing yourself to stop walking.
This time he does reach for you, taking your hand in his. It’s warm and rough from years of volleyball and hard work, and you hate that it’s already so familiar. His expression is as stoic as ever, but there’s a quiet reverence in his eyes as he looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe you’re really there with him. You suppose in another light, it might almost look romantic, the two of you holding hands under his umbrella, lost in your own little world as the rain pours down around you.
He seems to be waiting for you to finish your thought, so you buck up whatever dregs of courage you still have and try again, “Why can’t you just… move on? I don’t want this- this thing, whatever it is between us.” You sigh, tugging your hand back, “I just want to be alone, why can’t you respect that?!”
He doesn’t answer for a long moment, staring at you, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the back of your palm.
But then he shrugs, easily, as if you’re merely discussing the weather and not their continued overbearing and unwanted presence in your life. “We love you. More than anything, and despite your… reservations, we belong together, what other reason does there need to be?” He pauses, his gaze softening just a fraction, “You’ll come around eventually,” he adds.
A tiny part of you crumples at that. What’s the use in arguing with a brick wall?
***
It’s a minor relief when you walk out of your last lecture for the day the following afternoon. It might be because it’s a Friday and you, for once, have absolutely no plans for the weekend, but realistically it’s more to do with the fact that you know no one is waiting for you outside. Ushijima has his volleyball game, and Tendou will be there with him, cheering from the sidelines. 
You should be happier, really, but there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been there since Ushijima left you at your door last night. 
They’re not going to stop. 
Instead of listening to the professor talk, you’ve spent the last three hours searching university transfers. You love Tokyo University, you love Tokyo - the big, bustling city you’d gladly lose yourself in again and again, but it can’t be your home, not when they’re here too.
There’s a University in Kyoto, it has a similar program to the one you’re already in. It’s a surprisingly easy process to change - your grades are decent enough, all you have to is apply. One simple click of a button. It’ll take a few weeks for it all to go through, which’ll give you enough time to figure out how you’re gonna upend your entire life without them realising - assuming of course that Kyoto university accepts the request.
If you soulmates won’t let you go, you’ll run, and you’ll keep running. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe one day you’ll look back at them and feel that same love for them that you’d seen in your parents instead of that black, cloying unease that twists at your guts, but so long as they don’t give the choice, what options do you have?
You’re not stupid, this… thing that they’re doing, the stalking, monopolising your time, trying to drive your friends away, it’s not the end game. What happens when they get tired of you ignoring them?
“Hey, Y/N wait up!”
For a moment your heart seizes, but it calms almost immediately when you realise the voice isn’t the one you’re afraid of. 
You turn to find one of the guys from your last lecture walking over. He’s kinda cute, in a lost puppy kind of way, and he’s nice, for the three conversations you’ve actually had with him. Honestly you’re a little surprised he actually knows your name (considering you’ve definitely forgotten his) but you smile back regardless. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You doing anything tonight?”
Netflix and crashing early, but you’re hardly about to tell him that, “Not much, why?”
He smiles, and for a moment you’re taken aback by just how utterly endearing it is. He really is cute. “Me and a few friends are having a party tonight, you’re uh, you’re welcome to come. Y’know, if you’re not doing anything,” he says with a laugh, throwing in a wink for good measure.
But his smile fades a little as he catches a glimpse of something behind you. You frown at the odd reaction, turning instinctively to see what drew his attention when a weight drapes across your shoulders and you find yourself being pulled into a sideways embrace.
“There you are, baby! I was starting to think you’d gotten lost,” a familiar voice drawls. “Who’s your friend?”
You can’t see Tendou’s expression as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but from the way your classmate blanches you can imagine that it’s not pleasant. Still you have to give him credit, he only falters for a second before he’s rubbing the back of his neck and offering a sheepish smile, “Oh, hey, uh… yeah, I’m-”
“Punching a little above your weight, dont’cha think?” Tendou cuts him off with a snort, nuzzling in just a little closer. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear, “I thought Ushiwaka told you about the game tonight.”
You shiver, although whether it’s from his softly edged words or the kiss he presses against your cheek, you’re not entirely sure. “He did, I-I told him that I had to study…”
Tendou laughs, squeezing you tighter, “Psh, is that all? Baby, we can help you study later. C’mon, or we’re gonna miss the start of the game.”
And like that he’s tugging you away. With Tendou’s arm wrapped snugly around you, you don’t even have a chance to turn around and apologise to the guy. He’s done it purposefully, a reminder you suppose of who you belong to - though for your classmate’s benefit or yours you honestly don’t know. 
Ushijima’s already on the court by the time Tendou and you arrive at your seats (front row of course) but he glances over as you both settle down and his lips quirk into the faintest hint of a smile.
It would make me… happy, if you came, he’d said.
You don’t miss the razor sharp, anticipatory gleam in his eyes, though. 
He destroys the competition. You still remember that brief clip you’d seen years ago of his brutal spike - it seems like time has only served to make it more lethal. The rest of his team is undeniably good, you doubt Ushijima would join a club made up of anything less than the best, but still, he’s in his element and without a single doubt the strongest on the court. 
For every point he scores, Tendou cheers wildly. Halfway through the second set you can see that every player on the other side hates Ushijima - if the scowls and muttered snarls they’re shooting his way are anything to go by. You can’t exactly say you blame them for it either. They’re demoralised and angry, frustrated by the huge Ace and his indomitable force and even though he’s not a part of the team, Tendou revels in it. There’s a song he starts to sing, some inane jig that flows too naturally to have been made up on the spot. You can almost imagine him on the court beside Ushiwaka, singing it after stealing point after point from the other team. The two of them must have made a formidable team on the court.
They still do, you suppose.
You’ve never been one for volleyball, or sports in general, but even you can’t deny the sense of feral anticipation in the air as Ushijima steps up to serve on match point. Tendou has his hand wrapped tightly around yours, leaning forward in his seat to watch the spectacle. You can’t say you blame him.
You might hate him, but you can’t deny that his serves are a sight to behold. Your heart thumps as he throws the balls up, runs and launches himself into the air. His legs are arched, his form perfect and you still can’t quite believe how high he manages to get considering his size -
And then he hits the ball, palm slamming into the leather with a resounding smack - it flies over the net, damn near knocks the poor Libero off his feet as he tries to save it, but even that isn’t enough to stop it. The ball ricochets off his receive, spinning into the crowd and just like that - it’s all over. 
Ushijima roars in victory, and Tendou turns to you, red eyes wild and delighted. You don’t have a moment to breathe, much less prepare yourself before his lips are crashing against your own. 
The deafening cheers of the stadium fade out. 
You can feel his racing pulse as he clutches you close, the unrepentant enthusiasm that pours through him as his tongue dances across your bottom lip, begging for entry. You’re stuck still, frozen in place as your soulmate steals his first kiss.
Somehow when you pictured this moment as a little girl, you didn’t imagine that it would be fear that floods your veins, that the soft, breathless laugh that Tendou gives as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours would scare you instead of making you feel safe and loved.
They walk you home together. It’s unnerving enough with just one of them, but with both your soulmates flanking you you’re more on edge than usual. 
Or maybe it’s the slightly weird energy you can sense between the two of them. Tendou hasn’t stopped grinning since he kissed you and Ushijima still seems a little wired from his win. He hasn’t said much since the three of you left the stadium, but he’s holding you closer than normal, an arm slung low across your back, his fingers brushing possessively along your hip. 
God, Kyoto can’t happen fast enough. 
There’s a lump in your throat as you reach your apartment. They’d offered to take you out for dinner after the game finished - to celebrate Ushiwaka’s crushing victory over ‘those poor assholes’ as Tendou had put it - but despite the pit of hunger in your stomach, you’d politely refused. The less time spent with them the better.
Surprisingly, both Tendou and Ushijima had taken it in stride without so much as a peep.
But now you’re at the front door, keys in hand and Ushijima still has his arm draped around you. It’s not like they haven’t been in this position before, but despite all their gentle cajoling (well, gentle is relative - Tendou whines petulantly and Ushijhima just seems to hover silently like an overgrown bat) they’ve never actually been inside your apartment. 
It’s your one sanctuary, and you very much want to keep it that way.
“Y’know, ‘Toshi and I’ve been thinking,” Tendou begins, snatching the keys out of your hand before you can stop him, chuckling and swatting at you when you try and grab them back. “Me ‘n the big guy, we really do love you, baby - head over heels, heart racing, butterflies in your stomach kinda love. It’s kinda sappy, actually. You have no idea how happy you’ve made us.”
The key slides into the lock and he twists it, pushing your door wide open. His eyes flash to yours and he grins, bowing as he gestures towards the open apartment. Your open apartment.
An invitation.
You blanch. “Um, I-I don’t think-”
Stupid of you to think you ever had a choice in the matter - Ushijima’s arm is an iron wall against your back, pushing you forward as he crosses the threshold. 
Tendou follows behind the two of you, and the click of the door shutting behind you echoes far too loudly in your small apartment. He tosses the keys into the little dish on the kitchen counter - where they always go when you’re at home - and winks at you.
“I mean we are your soulmates so I ‘spose it’s kind of a given.” He shrugs, leaning back against the countertop, folding his arms over his chest. “But we can’t help but notice that you seem a little… uneasy around us. And I get it, baby, really I do. You’re just a little shy - it’s cool.”
Your heart leaps into your throat as Ushijima’s fingers curl around your jaw and he tilts your face to the side to meet his intense stare, “You’re being unnecessarily stubborn,” he elaborates.
A flicker of amusement dances in Tendou’s eyes at his bluntness. “We tried it your way - taking it slow and steady, trying to ease you in but, well… I think we can all agree your way isn’t working all that great.”
Your eyes snap back to him, “What?”
His grin widens, “So we figured it’s time we try it our way. We’ve been so good, baby! D’ya have any idea how hard it’s been to hold ourselves back?”
Ushijima’s grip is unrelenting, but that doesn’t stop you from frantically trying to fight your way out of it as Tendou pushes off the counter and stalks over to the two of you.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, “Been waiting so long for this. Wanted to fuck you on the tables back in the diner in that cute lil’ uniform of yours.” He smirks down at you, his pupils blown wide and dripping with lust. 
No. No, no, no! You shake your head frantically as he closes in, “Stop, wait! Let me go, LET ME GO! I-I don’t want-”
Your panicked words are cut off as Ushijima suddenly spins you around to face him. His hand cups your cheek, enveloping it entirely, and his broad thumb strokes the soft skin gently. “We’re not going to hurt you, little one. You just need to see - to feel what we feel for you.”
Whatever retort you have is swallowed up as he closes the gap between you and kisses you. He’s demanding - unrelenting - forcing your mouth open so that his tongue can taste yours. Distantly you register Tendou slotting in behind you, the unmistakable bulge that presses against your ass as he attaches himself to your neck. “Shh, baby,” he murmurs between kisses, fingers sliding to the hem of your top. “Let your soulmates take care of you, hm?”
It’s not like you’ve ever had a choice in the matter.
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Text
you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy
Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.
Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol
Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid
Word Count: 6k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!
you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves
Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.
His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.
The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.
And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.
He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.
It feels like he’s lost his last ally.
(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)
He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.
They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.
For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?
The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.
It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.
He pays a sorry price.
Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.
And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.
“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”
“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”
“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”
“Husband?”
Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.
He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.
He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.
Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.
The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.
He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.
The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.
Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.
(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)
Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.
He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.
He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.
“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”
Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”
“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.
He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.
God, he wishes Penelope was here.
“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.
Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.
(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)
Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.
Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’
The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.
Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.
His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.
The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.
But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.
It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.
But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.
The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?
The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.
Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.
Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”
(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”
Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)
“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.
Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”
You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.
“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”
“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”
And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?
The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.
It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.
It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.
Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.
“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.
Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”
“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.
“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”
“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”
“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”
Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”
“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.
Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.
“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.
Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.
Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”
It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.
There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”
“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.
“You’re fucking lying—!”
“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”
The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.
“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.
“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.
Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.
“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”
He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.
“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.
“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”
“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.
He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.
“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.
“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”
“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.
“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”
He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.
Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”
Spencer nods.
“Do you mind if I talk to him?”
His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.
“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”
He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.
“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”
He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.
“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”
“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.
“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”
Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.
“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”
He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.
“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”
“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.
“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”
Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”
“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”
“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”
Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”
Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”
“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”
Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.
Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.
Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.
“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”
“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”
“I understand, Spence,�� he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”
“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”
Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”
Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”
Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.
“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.
He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”
He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.
“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?
But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.
They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.
He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.
“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”
“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.
“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”
He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”
She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”
“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”
“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”
“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”
“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”
“I do now.”
“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”
Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”
“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”
As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.
“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”
“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”
“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”
“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.
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sockablock · 3 years
Text
loosely inspired by this post from @deathonholiday​! I’ve been playing Hades nonstop so it was only a matter of time...
— — —
"Oh, great. Did Olympus send you to gawk as well?"
The young man standing before Death paused.
“What?”
Thanatos rolled his eyes. If he hadn’t been bound in chains, he might have crossed his arms too.
“It’s no use playing stupid," he said. "Though you do seem to be a natural.”
“W—hey!”
“You’re not even the first one to come here today,” Thanatos muttered, almost half to himself. “Some war god said he’d free me, then got distracted by a battle and didn’t come back. Typical Olympian.”
The young man sighed.  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not a—I’m just a person.”
Thanatos scoffed in response, making the chains on his chest clink together. When he realized the boy was being serious, he scoffed louder.
“Do you expect me to believe that? Your feet are on fire. One of your eyes is...wait, really?”
The young man hesitated. Thanatos had seen his expression before on prey animals that hadn’t quite managed to run away. Still, the boy held his ground, and he could respect that in a begrudging sort of way.
“I really am,” the boy insisted. “I’m just...my mother says I was touched by a god.”
“She’s lying,” said Thanatos. “It’s obvious. Look, I’m Death, it’s my job to know who’s mortal. And I’m good at my job.”
“Really?” said the boy. A glint of mischief rose in his eyes. “Is that why you’re standing in this grove? All tied up?”
“Wh—no. No, I’m choosing to be here.”
“You said ‘one of mine’ promised to ‘free’ you,” he pointed out, to Thanatos’s endless chagrin. “Are these chains are some kind of fashion statement...?”
Death scowled. “Yes, alright. I’m trapped here. Are you happy?”
“Compared to you? I’d imagine so.” The young man took a step forward. “Need a hand?”
Thanatos considered his lean frame, half-hidden in pale green cloth.
“The last...person who handled these chains was stronger than you. By far. Are you sure you’ll be of any use?”
The boy crossed his arms. “Would you rather stay here forever? The way things are these days, that war god might be gone a while.”
Thanatos relented faster than he’d admit. “Untie me,” he said. “I’ve been here for weeks. Hurry up.”
The young man laughed, a weightless sound. It reminded Thanatos of the breeze. 
Which he hated. Along with everything else on the surface.
“You aren’t one for thank yous, are you?” the boy asked, but closed the distance and began to work. “Most people learn at an earlier age.”
“I’m Death,” said Death, sounding more petulant than expected. “I’m ageless.”
“You don’t look that much older than me.” The boy wound a finger under a knot of chains and tugged a Thanatos’s left arm free. “You were captured, too. New to the job?”
“I don’t need a lecture from a godling who thinks he’s mortal.” But he did shift his shoulder with a grateful sigh. “Seriously. Who is your mother, anyway?”
The boy hesitated. Thanatos almost told him to get back to work until he caught the furrow in his brow. 
“You don’t have to tell me,” he added. “Not if it means you’ll stop.”
The boy’s smile returned at this. “She’s a good woman,” he said instead. “She moved out into the country to protect me when I was born. I was...different from the other children, she said. It was for my safety.”
“Most mortal children don’t have flaming feet.”
“I figured as much,” the young man unraveled another section of chains. “Not that I would know many others.”
Thanatos pulled his other arm from the tangle. “Isolated out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“My grandmother visits sometimes,” the boy hummed. “She seems...a bit cold, but really not so bad.”
“And what does she say about your godhood?” Thanatos said, as the boy knelt to deal with the chains around his legs. He could stretch his arms again, and so he did, with a great sweep. “Blood and darkness, that king has it coming.”
“Is that who managed to capture you?”
“Not important. Your grandmother.”
“She says even less than my mother,” the boy shrugged. “She never wants to talk about the gods. In fact, I’ve met death today—” he straightened up and the last of the chains fell away, “—and I don’t think I even know your name.”
Thanatos stepped out of the pile. He thought about kicking them, then remembered his posture. And the fact that they did belong to him.
“If you were a mortal, I’d be offended.”
“I just saved you, you know.”
Death rubbed his face. Such freedom was incredible.
“Thanatos,” he said eventually.
The young man beamed. “Zagreus. Pleased to meet you.”
He even stuck out his hand. It wasn’t on fire. Thanatos slowly took it.
“Oh—cold,” said Zagreus, though he didn’t pull away. There was something gratifying about being able to surprise this godling. 
“I don’t need to remind you who I am, do I?”
Zagreus chuckled. “I don’t think so, Than.”
“Th—what—”
“So,” Zagreus continued, pointedly ignoring this, “I guess this means...that is, if you’ve been stuck here for weeks, I assume you’re missed elsewhere.”
'Missed’ was not the word Thanatos would’ve used, but he nodded anyway. “I have work to do.”
“Then...can I see you later?”
Death blinked. “You—of course not. I mean...you shouldn’t. Not under good terms. Not when I’m...busy.”       
Zagreus raised an eyebrow. “You don’t get breaks? That seems inhumane.”
“We aren’t human,” Thanatos reminded him. “Despite what you seem to insist is true.”
“Well! If that’s the case, being a god is worse than being mortal. Divinity shouldn’t be this much work.” Zagreus gave such a goofy smile that it managed to wring a huff out of Thanatos.
“Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t have any domain,” he said. “Your followers would be doomed.”
“And yours aren’t?” Zagreus asked. “You’re death.”
Thanatos rolled his eyes. “I do important work. If you’re really out here in the middle of nowhere, you’d have no idea how much chaos there’s been. Nothing’s been able to die for weeks. You don’t want to know what the wet markets are like.”
“The what?”
He rolled his eyes even harder. He added ‘vegetarian’ to the puzzle that was Zagreus. “Nevermind. Look, I...I doubt I’ll be back here.” 
Zagreus’s face fell, and Thanatos was amazed to find himself disappointed too.
“At—well, at least...not for a while,” he managed.
Zagreus grinned. “I can wait.”
Thanatos looked into his mismatched eyes. The cheer he saw in one of them was foreign, but the other, the green one...
...had he seen that before?
Zagreus waved in his face, and Thanatos was back to reality with a scowl. 
“And only if I have time,” he said. 
“You’re Death. Don’t you have all the time in the world?”
Thanatos sighed. “You’re too quick for your own good. I suppose that’s something you’ve heard before, hasn’t it?”
“I’ll wait in this grove for you, how’s that?” Zagreus said, ignoring him again. “It can be our meeting spot.”
Thanatos found himself unable to argue. Maybe it was whatever felt so familiar about this godling, but mostly...mostly it was Zagreus’s smile.
“It won’t be tomorrow,” he said, for his own sake. “I don’t think it will be soon.”
“Of course not!” Zagreus said. “You’ve got a home to go back to. One that I want to hear all about, next time.”
Thanatos was utterly defeated. “Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Next time. Er.”
He stood there, holding a coil of chains.
Zagreus blinked.
“Yes?”
Thanatos glanced at the ground. “...thank you.”
Zagreus beamed. “You’re welcome.”
And it was too late, the pale green light was already there, already taking him back to the House, but for a second, for just a tiny instant, a faint, distant memory of Than’s childhood resurfaced—
Green eyes, sparkling with kindness and cheer—
“Your mother!” He called suddenly. “Is her n—”
Then he was gone.
Zagreus stood alone in the clearing afterwards, wondering what Death had been trying to say. 
But Thanatos did not instantly return. So he shrugged, turned back on flame-licked heels, and went home to where his mother was waiting.
— — — 
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sup-hoes-its-me · 3 years
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Skinny Love II (Kakashi x Reader)
A/N: second part to skinny love. This is all angst. Very sad. I just watched the pain arc again and had to write something about Kakashi and what happens. Im guessing this could be tagged for spoilers but Naruto is old soooo. 
Word count: 5000
“I’m just saying, maybe the second novel is better than the first. You’re free to have your own opinion, that’s just what I think.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
“Whatever you say,” Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes at the masked man sitting in front of her. She was sipping on a hot bowl of broth after coming home from her most recent mission. It was a nice day out, and she thought it would be a good idea to go out and get something to eat with her favorite shinobi. He was dangerously possessive over his romance novels, and felt immense embarrassment when Y/N decided to pick them up as well. 
For a week after finishing the series, she mocked him for liking the gushy, mushy romance that lied on the pages, not to mention the more inappropriate chapters that left nothing to the imagination. Master Jiraiya wasn’t kidding when he said he was doing “research” at the bath house.
“We should go out more often,” he commented, “It’s nice to relax with all this Akatsuki business going on.”
“Definitely. We used to go out like this all the time before you started training those kids,” she hummed. It was true. They had normal outings at that point in time, as the only thing they did was go on missions and then chill at home until the next outing. After Naruto and Sasuke revealed their unique personalities, and got themselves into some sticky situations, the times changed and they spent much more time apart than before. “Not to mention going out with you gives me an excuse to eat whatever I want.”
He nodded in reply, his eyes trailing down to his novel once again which he was skimming over. She didn’t mind him reading at the table. What was he supposed to do? Eat? There was no way he would take off the mask. He was content just giving her company. 
His reading gave Y/N an excuse to admire him. Her eyes would lift from the table every time he looked down at the pages, and she would take in all his features. She swore, he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever met, even with the mask. Without a mask, he probably resembled a god. It was nice to just watch as he relaxed into his novel, enjoying himself without any cares in the world. 
She liked to talk to him even more. He always knew the right thing to say to make her feel important and wanted, even on her worst of days, he was there to make it better. He was brave and strong, but kind and gentle when need be. His soft words in the late nights they hung out, or his concern when she injured herself, or the happiness the times she made him laugh. Each moment meant so much more to her than he realized. 
It was evident to everyone that she had an attachment to him. What kind exactly was the complicated part. While they had been friends for quite a long time, she felt like he was more than just a normal friend or even a best friend. He felt more like a partner than anything, whether it be partner-in-crime or partner-in-love. She loved him with every bone in her body, more than she loved her comrades or her friends, she cared for him like she would a lover.
Maybe it was because she was so shy that she couldn’t tell him how she felt after all this time. Maybe it was fear of rejection. Maybe it was fear of death. She wasn’t sure what held her back from confessing her love to him, spilling all those words she kept under lock and key. She wanted there to be something more, but he’d never let on that he cared for her that way, and surely he would have said something if he did feel that way. It just seemed impossible.
But not to the ordinary person. 
People had mentioned in passing to Kakashi that he acted like a lovesick teenager when he was around the woman. She was just so perfect, how could he do anything but adore her. To him, she was one of the only people that truly mattered as more than a fellow shinobi or comrade.
There was no reason to rush it though. If she truly wanted a relationship with him, she would tell him eventually. He wasn’t one to go around throwing out love confessions first. He would wait until she was comfortable and ready. Until then, he would admire her from a distance, through friendly touches and smiles, and dreamy looks when the other wasn’t watching. To him, that was enough. 
This lunch outing was the perfect time to waste some hours with her just talking and reading in the others company. The day almost felt too good to be true. 
And it was.
First there was the explosion, followed by the screams. Oh, those screams would haunt Y/N’s dreams. Villagers who she’d known growing up screaming in pain. Quickly, she jumped to her feet as did the copy nin.  Their eyes frantically looked through the doorway of the restaurant, but there wasn’t anything on their particular street, just dust from the explosion floating down in thick clouds. 
“Someone’s attacked the village. Shit,” he cursed under her breath. 
They would have to go out there and fight, they both knew that very well. Fight who, they didn’t know, but Y/N could sense that the same foreign chakra signature was coming at her from multiple directions in the village. That couldn’t be good. It was probably that Akatsuki member that everyone was talking about. Pain. Pain with the rinnegan. How could the leaf compete against something as strong as that dojutsu?
“Everybody out! You know the evacuation route,” Y/N called out to the civilians in the restaurant, as she swallowed her panic. She made a move to usher the people from the store so they could run in the direction of refuge.
This wasn’t a normal battle. These intruders were a completely different breed than the ones they were used to fighting. She could feel the impending doom start to blanket around her body, and she took a deep breath. How could this happen? Was Pain here to take Naruto? Naruto wasn’t even in the village, how could that be? Was it the Akatsuki making a big statement attacking one of the five great villages?
There was just something off. She could feel it. Today was going to be one of the worst days, worse than anything else they’d experienced.
“Y/N, let’s go.”
“Kakashi…” she trailed off, not taking a step forward just yet. Was there something she needed to get off her chest before they rushed into a battle with an outcome unknown? As she met his frantic, panicked eyes with her own, she wondered if she should just confess her feelings right then and there, just so he could know before they put their lives on the line. 
Never in her life did she think that her or Kakashi might die. It was never a thought that crossed her mind. She assumed she had all the time in the world to gather the courage to tell him. Now it felt like she had run out of time, and they might never get the chance to see each other again. The chakra signatures around them were just too strong to guarantee they would live against their blows. It felt like this was her final chance. 
She started again, “Kakashi, I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” he asked, wanting to hurry this along. She could see plainly that this wasn’t the right time. He wasn’t in the right mind to hear her words, or comprehend the meaning behind them. Instead, she lowered her head and sighed. 
And so she kept that secret tightly bound deep in her heart. 
“Nevermind, it’s not important. Just be safe out there. Make it back to me in one piece, okay?”
“You know I can’t promise that,” he replied, and her heart sank in her chest. He was right. If he died, he died. If she died, she died. Nothing could stop fate from doing its dirty work.
“Just promise me. Give me some confidence before we jump into this mess. I-I can’t do this without you promising me you’ll live!” She cried, passion and fear dripping off her words. She had her eyes shut tightly at this point, just trying to keep herself from letting the potential tears gather in her eyes. Her fists clenched by her side as well. “Just say something!”
He nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “I promise I’ll make it back to you, Y/N. Now promise you’ll live. For me,” he demanded, lifting her head to face him. His fingers were strong against her cheek, firm when faced with danger. He wanted her to live, but knowing that Pain killed Jiraiya was enough to make him worry and plan for the worst. 
Why was he even asking? He knew that words meant nothing. That most promises were just bound to be empty. 
Just this one time, he prayed that she’d keep it.
“I promise.”
“Now let’s go. I’ll take this side, and you go that way. Sounds like explosions came from both directions.”
“Got it.”
There was no room for goodbyes.
After that, they went their separate ways. Y/N had to keep herself from losing control. Everything was going to be okay. She was worrying far too much. Kakashi was strong. Stronger than anyone else she knew really. He couldn’t be taken down by some terrorists. It wasn’t an option.
As long as she could sense his chakra lingering in the distance, she would know. 
__________
It was painful, the wound that tore through her thigh. Blood dripped thickly from the cut, but she continued to fight. In this situation, there was nothing else to do, nothing more to fight for than the safety of the village and the people within it. Y/N has never seen a villain this bad, someone so dead set on killing and tormenting that it brought the shinobi of the village to their knees. Yet, here he was, this orange haired creature who popped up at multiple points of their city, each with a different signature move yet a similar chakra pattern.
Y/N knew she couldn’t break down just yet, not after seeing comrade after comrade fall to the ground and lose their lives to the cause. She had to keep going for them. For her friends and her family who died. She was never the most talented at fighting, she was more of a sensory type, stay on the inside and study type of kunoichi. But not today. No one had that luxury today.
Constantly, she could feel the loss of the ninja alongside her, their chakra signatures melting into nothing as blasts continued to ravage their village. The fire within their bodies burned for the last time, disappearing into the ashes.
It wasn’t until she was on her knees, face buried in the dirt and rubble did she really feel the pain this man was so desperate to bestow upon the villagers. Kakashi’s chakra had burned out. It was as if her body gave up after that. She couldn’t move, her bones were broken and she couldn’t afford to stand and fall back down once again, believe it that she tried over and over again. Nothing mattered at this point. How could it? She couldn’t feel her best friend’s chakra signature any longer. He was dead.
Her crying into the dirt was the only thing that signalled another shinobi to come and help her to the infirmary. Someone she barely knew had picked her up by the arm and hoisted it over his shoulder, dragging her by his side to the hospital where the medical nin were no doubt working harder than ever. Her whole body felt like it was caked in bloody crimson mud, dust up her nose and muk between her teeth. 
Everything just made her cry harder and harder until she felt she was gasping to breathe. 
The harsh lights in the building did nothing but sting her eyes, and the dozens of medical nin rushing around those lying on the floor overwhelmed her. 
Sakura stood at the front of all the mess, and her eyes immediately caught onto Y/N and her rescuer. “Y/N-sensei, what happened to you?” she cried, rushing over with her frantic hands hovering over the state of the broken woman as she scanned for the wounds. This only caused more sobbing.
“One second she was fine, the next she was lying in the dirt screaming. I don’t know,” the man said, handing her off to the pink haired girl. “She’s got broken legs, I know that.”
“Thank you for bringing her,” she mumbled as she brought her sensei over to an empty cot, sitting her down on the cloth and beginning the healing process on the worst part of her leg where the bone was exposed. She was shaking so badly it was almost hard to concentrate on her work. She’d never seen Y/N so hopeless and lost. She was strong, she never faltered in the face of danger. It worried Sakura, no doubt.
“Sensei, what happened?”
“It’s Kakashi,” the woman croaked between her harsh breaths. “I-I can’t feel his chakra anymore.” Tears ran down her cheeks furiously, dripping from her chin into her lap. She felt the hopelessness overtake her entire person, the only thing left being complete and utter fear. Her chest heaved, desperate for the next gulp of air into her lungs. 
Sakura nearly faltered at the words. Kakashi sensei, dead? How could that be? He was one of the strongest shinobi they knew. He would never fall victim to a villain, would he? From the sounds of Y/N’s heartbroken cries, the medical nin knew that it was over. That another life had been stolen from them. 
Kakashi was Y/N’s heart and soul. She loved him for years and planned to love him for many more. Everyone knew that. Kakashi and her may have never acknowledged their feelings before his death, but the skinny love lingered in the air every time they were around each other. 
The longing looks when they passed each other in the street. The pain they felt when the other was hurt. The smiles they shared when something good happened in their no-good shinobi lives. They were more than willing to lay their lives on the line for the other, more than just a comrade, more than a friend. 
Her passion for Kakashi was the only good thing she had to come home to after missions. His face was the one thing she wanted to see after a bad day. His stupid face as he read his perverted novels, that grin that she positively adored.
All of that was gone, and her heart couldn’t take it. The pain from her injuries sat in the back of her mind, the only thing she could focus on was the loss. Knowing she would never see him again, never hear his voice. If only she could hear him laugh one more time. It was impossible, but she wished to the heavens above for mercy.
Sadly, no one was there to listen. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Sakura whispered, not knowing what else to say. What could she say? 
“I need him. I can’t do this without him,” she sobbed, her hands shaking by her side, having to clench her fists just to stop the tremors. “Sakura, it’s been 15 years. I...I don’t know a life without him.”
Her heart broke at the words. It was true. She didn’t know life anymore without Kakashi. They’d been friends and comrades for so long that it seemed like that was all she knew. How can you come back from that? Sakura didn’t know. She might be able to heal the woman’s legs, but there was no way she could begin to heal such a broken heart. 
“It’s okay. You have plenty of others. You have Gai and Kurenai and-”
“Fuck everyone else. You know they can’t replace him,” she snapped. “No one can replace him.”
Sakura could only nod solemnly. They could lie all day and pretend that Gai would somehow swoop in and make up for that gaping hole in her heart. They could lie and say that Kurenai and her child would fill Y/N with a happiness she felt with Kakashi. Yes, they could certainly lie about it all. 
At the end of the day though, her pain would be unrivalled. Losing the one man you’ve loved from the moon and back. It would take an entire army and then some to combat such a struggle. 
When Sakura was done healing the woman, she handed her a roll of bandages from her pocket. “I’ve got to tend to others. Wrap this around your calf and then stay here to rest. Please, just rest yourself, sensei. You’ll heal faster that way.” Y/N took the bandages and nodded her head weakly, shaky hands going to wrap her bare and burned calf with the medical bandages.
Her mind still centered around Kakashi. She found herself curling up into a ball on the little bench she was sat at, hugging her knees close to her chest. She just cried. Right now, she couldn’t do anything else. 
Just cry.
________
The village was in complete and utter ruin. Y/N lay painfully utop a mountain of rubble, blood oozing from the back of her head and from her already injured leg. Pain’s final attack, one that completely demolished the village...it spared her life.
How could things get any fucking worse? 
She felt like the Gods were being especially cruel to her on this day. Especially cruel to every single person in the village, but they kept Y/N alive for their own personal amusement, laughing at her loss and her pain and her  frustration. 
Despite Lady Tsunade sending out Katsuyu to protect the villagers, Y/N only seemed to be in worse shape than before. She could feel the slug on her shoulder slowly healing her, but it wasn’t much compared to the pain and the numerous injuries.
Y/N rolled onto her side and groaned, pain shooting up her spine and giving her a brain-shattering headache. When she went to cough on something thick and slimy in her throat, what splattered on the ground was red. Maybe she was just meant to die slow and painfully. 
It was better this way, she decided. Nothing could make this day worth it. Nothing. The pain was unbearable.
“Y/N? Is that you?” a feminine voice called from a little while away, and the woman cursed, spitting up more blood as she did so. Sakura climbed through some of the rubble to approach her. Her hands hovered over the woman’s broken body, scanning over all her wounds. 
Naruto was down there fighting Pain. Everything was going to be okay as long as they had faith in the Uzumaki. Sakura could focus a bit of her energy on healing her sensei. There was nothing else to do except watch the fight below them, in the center of the wasteland that used to be the Hidden Leaf.
She began the healing process, medical chakra flowing into the woman’s chest wounds, the most critical of all. “Sakura…”
“What is it, Y/N?”
“What’s happening? Is everyone dead?”
“No, everyone is alive. Lady Tsunade sent out Katsuyu to protect everyone. It seems that you were injured before your healing slug could get to you. Thankfully, you have both of us to fix you up,” she muttered. Y/N would have been blind to not notice the way Sakura stared past her deeper into the wreckage as she spoke. 
“What do you see?” she asked quietly, as loud as her body could muster.
“It’s Naruto. He’s out there fighting Pain alone,” she said, “He-he’s gotten so much stronger.”
The older woman smiled through her pain, shutting her eyes and letting a soft sigh leave her lips. She hadn’t anticipated Naruto to come saving the day, in fact, it seemed more likely that Pain would kill everyone and leave the village in ruin. Fortunately, Kakashi’s student, the one that people had underestimated for so long, was out there doing what the rest of them couldn’t. 
A hero. No matter if he won or not, these are the actions of a hero.
“It’s his destiny: to save this village,” she whispered. “Jiraiya once said so.”
“Let’s hope he was right.”
Together they lay there in the middle of ruin while Naruto battled Pain. They watched as the two men launched themselves away from the village into the woods, the nine tailed fox coming to life far away from where they huddled together. The village was safe from direct harm at this point and the two women let down their guard just a little bit. Down in the middle of the pit some of the students started to gather, including a heavily injured Hinata.
“Help me down there, Sakura. I need to see Gai,” she said, louder than before. After all that time healing, she found herself strong enough to prop up on her elbows and gaze into the destruction. 
Once down there, Sakura was quick to start healing Hinata, fearing that the girl had taken too much damage to handle. After all, she charged against Pain, the supposedly leader of this terrorist attack. All of that to help out young Naruto. Y/N felt like she was staring at an image of herself for a moment. A young woman ready to sacrifice it all for the sake of the man she loved. 
As her eyes moved around the area, she caught onto the bright green outfit of her long time friend. His eyes caught hers for a moment and quickly, he rushed over to her side. She collapsed onto her knees, wincing at the pain that ran through her body as she did so. She found herself still a bit too weak to stand. 
“Y/N, you’re alive,” he gasped. He knelt on the ground beside her and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, steadying her shaky form. “Your injuries-”
“Forget about that, Gai,” she mumbled. “Something terrible has happened.” He couldn’t imagine what she had to say could be any worse than the destruction of the entire village. But he nodded and sat there listening as she spoke her words carefully, painfully with each syllable that left her lips. “Kakashi is dead.”
He felt his heart drop in his chest. As he looked at the woman before him, he knew that she wanted nothing more to cry, yet there were no tears. He assumed that she had already cried her fill earlier and could only mourn at this point. He didn’t ask before wrapping her smaller form up in his arms and tugging her to his chest, burying his nose in her hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his shoulder, dry sobs causing her entire form to quiver.
In a moment like this one, he just remained still for her. Sit there and be there through this pain. He felt crushed at the thought of his best friend dead, his eternal rival somewhere out there in all that rubble fatally injured. Gai had lost a brother that day, and Y/N had lost her one and only lover.
He listened as she hopelessly bawled in the comfort of his arms, feeling every bit of her pain sink into his form. They had gone through battles together before, they grew up teammates and friends, how could they not. They had seen death and pain all their lives. This was on another level, incomprehensible to either of them. 
Pure misery. Every emotion seemed to burn in her chest. She wanted to curl up and die herself.
________
It felt like hours went by before the lives were returned. She hadn’t thought much of it when the elderly Toad woke up from his eternal slumber. For a moment, she thought it was just a fluke. That he had never really died in the first place, they just thought he did. But then, she watched as people above the trench started to stand from their resting places on the ground and in the rubble. 
That is when she realized that somehow, someway, the lives lost during this terrible battle had been reclaimed. It was only a matter of time before she found out if Kakashi had come back to life as well. She sat there, focusing all her energy into sensing nearby chakra, sorting through hundreds of people for the one she wanted. 
Gai had left to help out some of the others, so she just sat there waiting. Waiting for Kakashi to come back to her. Just like he promised.
After all this chaos, she couldn’t imagine keeping her love a secret from him any longer. He needed to know. She wouldn’t let this opportunity go wasted. Y/N was given a second chance at finding love in her friend, and she would be damned if she let that go to waste. 
After a while, she began to feel his chakra. At first it was very faint, like he was a mile away hidden underneath rocks and everything else you could imagine. But then it got stronger. 
He was alive.
When she saw his form climb down into the pit with the rest of them, his mask torn and only the bottom layer of his clothes still intact, she nearly cried once again. For hours before this, she was prepared to never see him alive again, never see that masked face look down upon hers once more. She had mourned the loss of Kakashi Hatake, only for him to be returned. 
It was as if the God’s had listened to her prayers.
“Kakashi!” she exclaimed as she struggled to get herself up from the ground. She knelt on one knee, pushing herself up with the other, desperate to walk over to him. Her body failed her of course, and she fell back onto her butt. He noticed her though, her tiny figure in the crowd of hundreds. She was the one person he wanted to find all along. 
He fell onto his knees beside her, his hands coming up to grasp her cheeks with his dusty, calloused hands. She relaxed into his rough fingers, sinking into the warmth that he was sharing. His thumbs slid along her lips and chin, trying to rub away the dirt that was caked in some places. She was a mess, messier than he was. He could only imagine the suffering that she went through as well, to have survived all of that without death as a retreat in the middle.
“Y/N, what happened to you?”
“Pain’s final blow caused some pretty bad wounds, but it’s fine. Sakura healed me enough that I’ll make it through,” she told him. Softly, she lifted her hands to place them over top his, her fingers slowly wrapping around his. “Kakashi, you broke your promise to me.”
“I know.”
She found that the words came out faster than she anticipated. Emotions and feelings being laid out in the open for him to see/ “I-I completely lost myself when I couldn’t feel your chakra anymore. I thought I’d lost you. I couldn’t stop crying, and I was angry at you for breaking your promise to me,” she rambled, “I didn’t know what I was gonna do without you.”
“It’s alright. I’m here now. Whatever Naruto has done saved my life,” he soothed, letting their hands fall into her lap. She wouldn’t let go of his hands even if he wanted them to himself. She was afraid. Afraid that if she let him go once more that he would be gone forever. “And I’m sorry I lied to you. I really shouldn’t have died like that. So irresponsible of me.”
There he was cracking a fucking joke about his own death. She wanted to smack him for being so dimwitted in a moment of vulnerability. Just the thought of being with him again made tears spring up in her eyes, and she shut her eyes to keep them from falling. Happy tears or not, she wasn’t going to cry again.
 “I need to tell you what I was too afraid to say before. What I wanted to say before we went our separate ways,” she confessed, her breaths coming out harsh and rushed. Once again, she gripped his hands tighter in hers. 
After taking a couple breaths, she lifted her eyes to meet his, mouth just agape. He really was all she could ever need. This moment wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t ideal, but it was just right for what she needed to say. “I’ve always loved you, Kakashi.”
“Y/N-”
“Listen, I know it’s not exactly an appropriate time to be confessing my love to you and all, but I couldn’t risk another day going by without telling you.”
“I love you, too.”
And silence. 
There wasn’t anything else to say. The love was mutual, it had been all this time. They just took their time getting around to admitting it, to just hear those words leave the other’s lips for the first time. There were no butterflies in her stomach nor did her heart race in her chest at his confession. 
She could only feel comfort in the umbrella they’d created for themselves, the outside world lost to the both of them. 
In a flash, she lurched forward to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, burying her face deep into his neck. “Don’t die ever again, Hatake, or I’ll kick your ass,” she laughed, the sound of her laugh reaching his ear. He held her to his chest and sighed. 
“No promises.”
Despite what happened that day, he felt comfortable. For the first time, in a very long time, he felt relief wash over him. Everything was going to be okay.
“Kakashi!”
Requests Are Open!
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lululawrence · 3 years
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hello!! i was wondering if u had a werewolf tag for fics? i would search it but not sure how to use tumblr that well :)) if not do u have recs? LOVE U HAVE A NICE DAY<333
hi babes! i don't have one here... damn that's a fucking great idea. hahaha i'm HORRIBLY unorganized when it comes to tags for fics on tumblr. i mostly use ao3 for the organization of fics. so! that said, i defo DO have recs for you!
you didn't specify pairing, which makes me smile because i get to rec rare pairs in addition to larry and hope you read them hehe okay, here we go!
He Carries The Key by me (8k, NR, niall/louis) - this fic is the only one of mine i'll include, okay? promise haha but it is also one i wrote for wordplay just a week or two ago and it's werewolves and a pack fic and i just had a lot of fun. very soft. much fluff. many feels. i hope you enjoy. lol
There's Fur Everywhere by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (4k, G, Harry/Louis) - this is a 5 times fic, and it's HYSTERICAL. it feels slightly spoilery for me to even be including it on this list, but also... it's still fucking hilarious. emmu is queen of the crack fic that makes you feel all the soft and wonderful things, and she doesn't disappoint with this one.
I Hear Them Calling for You by @jaerie / jaerie (6k, E, Harry/Louis) - this fic is... not for everyone. like at all. please please please read the tags and the summary and if you don't like it or it makes you uncomfortable, then close right out of it. as for ME i loved what she explored with it, all the emotions and the story and worldbuilding of it all. i thought it was fantastic and incredibly interesting. it is A/B/O, pack fic with claiming and... yeah. it's amazing.
Campus Creatures by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything and @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (25k, E, Harry/Louis) - werewolves! vampires! fae! university! frat houses! science research positions being vied for! enemies to lovers! like... not sure what more you could ASK for, but there's also a fuck ton of humor and nudity and sexual tension and... it's just a lot of fun. can't go wrong, really. haha
From What I've Tasted of Desire by @evilovesyou / 4ureyesonly28 (72k, T, Harry/Louis) - okay so i'm including this one even though like... harry and louis aren't werewolves. but it's a twilight au, so there ARE werewolves and i'm ASSUMING you know twilight and therefore know that means you know they're pretty involved and... that's true for this fic too. ahha for real, though, i love evi's writing and this fic was one of my first introductions to it and it was a fun read, so i wanted to include it in case it had enough of the werewolf flair to entice you haha
Compete Against the Stars by @daggerandrose / amomentoflove (31k, M, Harry/Louis) - omg okay so this one is like ANGSTY AF and i FUCKING LOVE IT because it's one of those fics that you HOPE you have figured out, and you probably do, but also there's SO many twists and turns to it all that you just have NO idea how it's all gonna work out and omg are they gonna just ruin it all for themselves by being stupid and ahhhhh the tension of just FIGURING OUT HOW THEY GET IT ALL TO WORK OUT!!! and of course it does. hahaha but HOW??? this is a RIDE and in my mind feels like a longer fic than 31k in the best of ways, they did an amazing job of packing a LOT of world building and storytelling into those 31k.
the straight for your heart (wolfpack au) series by foreverkneeld and foundfamilyvevo (96k, T/G, Multiple or No pairings including Niall/Louis, Zayn/Liam, OT5, and Shawn/Niall) - This series is the ultimate hurt/comfort and healing pack fic series omg. it was recommended to me when i was in a super hard time and my anxiety was so bad i couldn't focus on anything. These short fics that all focused so much on healing and found family were exactly what i needed. so so soft, so lovely. I still haven't read them all because i'm saving them for when i need them. they're glorious.
when the air ran out and we both started running wild by darlingjustdont (48k, M, Nick/Louis) - OMG OKAY LISTEN THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVS. a tomlinshaw werewolf pack fic?! ahhhhhhhhh i was SO happy when i discovered this one. louis is alpha of the pack and things are... shaky, shall we say. there's a lot going on that he's worried about and then he meets nick and it's kind of enemies to lovers? okay, more than kind of. but omg the FEELS. SO. MANY. FEELS. but also danger and a;lsdgkhas;ldfkja just please read this and rave with me because i don't have many i can talk about this one with and i LOVE IT.
You Smell Like by mystic_believexx (185k, M, Harry/Louis) - i had no idea this fic was so long hahahaha wow ANYWAY louis is human, but he's always been close with harry and therefore basically a part of his pack. but then one day harry leaves and louis kind of accidentally becomes the pack alpha. even though he's human. but there's SO much more to it. there's just sooooo much with the friendship and the pack bond as well as the danger and trying to figure out what the hell is going on... it's just a LOT and one of those epic fics that i still think about even though i read it...a year and a half ago i guess. but it's amazing and i highly recommend it if the word count doesn't scare you away haha
Canyon Moon by @eeveelou / delsicle (41k, E, Harry/Louis) - this is a lion king au, made a/b/o werewolves! i really enjoyed this one a lot, actually, because i could absolutely see the parallels, but also the way it was adapted made it so it wasn't always obvious how it would all play out. it was a really interesting and cool world building as well.
The Truth I Can't Explain (Smoke and Mirrors) by @fallinglikethis / FallingLikeThis (9k, M, Harry/Louis) - ohhhhh this one is SO cool cause it's by tabby so she made it incredibly fun and fascinating to try to figure out. there's magic and mages and werewolves and feuds and they're basically on the eve of battle and holy cow it's just SO cool.
One Touch Is Never Enough by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (4k, E, Harry/Louis) - once again lauren delivers and there's just so much i keep giggling about with this because it is SO fun. there's a lot that louis is dealing with in this fic hahaha and the way she writes it all is so funny. the poor man just wants a fucking massage! lololol it's lighthearted, humorous, and basically filled with fluff, crack, and smut. hahaha
Knot Safe For Work by @jaerie / jaerie (6k, E, Harry/Louis) - a;sldkgha;lfdkjas listen i forgot about this fic until i found it in my bookmarks for werewolves because jenna writes so many fucking amazing fics that when i think of werewolves, i think of at least two others first, but i could NOT do this rec without this fic because now that i remember it exists i am going to have to go and read it again! hahaha harry's a werewolf, louis is a wizard, there's knotting dildos and table sex and... just read it. lolol
Saving's What I Need by @jaerie / jaerie (17k, M, Harry/Louis) - writer louis is out for a drive one day and he hits a dog. THIS POOR DOG! he takes it to the vet and tries his best to take care of it... but things are not as they seem. because yeah, harry is defo not a dog. lollllll this fic was hilarious and sweet and omg there's just so much to love about it. there were so many more emotions in it than i expected. loooove!
Out of the Wild by @jaerie / jaerie (22k, E, Harry/Louis) - this fic has such fun world building, which is actually a huge strength of jenna's fics and you'll hear me rave about it with all 50 of her fics that will end up on this rec list (not really 50, but ya know lol). louis is a fairly wild and undomesticated wolf and harry's from the city and they end up as roommates during the x factor process. oh my word this fic is so fun because of all the challenges they're going through PLUS the wolf side of things and just... the way they work together and navigate it all as well as falling for each other is pure gold.
Out With The Old, In With The New by, you guessed it, @jaerie / jaerie (7k, E, Harry/Louis) - listen, just. this one is smutty as hell and it's gonna take you some places that some people will be uncomfortable with, which is totally valid and fair. please be sure to read the tags and make your decision on whether or not to read accordingly, but also know that its written in a super interesting way that is also pretty amazing if you do decide to give it a shot. lol
Instincts by @marastarfar / StarFar ( 100k so far - it's a WIP!, T, Harry/Louis) - omg listen. i LOVE mara's fics so much and when this first posted it was a one shot little thing that was FASCINATING. i loved it! and then i was happily surprised when i learned more was added to it. and then it was turned into a wip and omg i am so far behind now but i trust mara with my life because i love everything i've read by them and what i've read of this so far is INCREDIBLE so just. yeah. lollll
There's a Power in What You Do by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (7k, T, Harry/Louis) - i just read my comment i left on this one and it was just mainly me begging for time stamps because there wasn't any way for her to improve upon the perfection of this fic (nesting! softness! even a silly comment in her endnotes to perfectly cap it all!), but i still wanted to remain in the story just a bit longer and learn more about them. hahaha anyway, those time stamps aren't happening, but this fic is still complete perfection.
amaryllis by @hattalove / hattalove (147k, E, Harry/Louis) - for a long time this was thought of as THE werewolf fic. if anyone was talking about a werewolf fic, it was probably this one. is that still the case? probably. i'm not sure. ANYWAY. there's a REASON it was THE werewolf fic and that's because this is amazing. it sucks you in and you feel like you're truly a part of the action. it's filled with the vibe of found family and wanting to figure out what happened while also adjusting to your new life and just... so many feelings. so much angst. SO fantastically epic.
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jessiebanethedragon · 3 years
Text
White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 7)
Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.
Chapter one Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter four Chapter five
Chapter Six
Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and betrothed are asses.
Chapter Seven: The The Havoc Marauder “How did you get out of the brig?” Tech asks you the second you're out of earshot of the captain. He looks judgemental and curious, and you’re not sure you want to tell him just how you managed to escape the cell. You still do not trust them. “I got the door open.” You tell him looking around, from here the ship looks quite small, the deck isn't all too long nor is it wide, and from the captains quarters looking to the front of the vessel you can appreciate the sleeknes of the ship.
“How did you get the door open?” Tech suppresses an eye roll and you simply shrug. More interested in Crosshair in the crows nest and Wrecker hauling different sails up and down. “None of you look that much alike.” You think aloud, marveling at the first clones you’ve ever met. “We are enhanced clones.” Tech states, and you nod. That makes sense given it seems they all have vastly different personalities. You see Hunter emerge from his quarters with a frown, looking for a situation report as well as an estimated time to Alderaan. “And the captain?” You turn to Tech who is squinting through his goggles at Hunter. “He never used to be this…” Tech starts mid thought before prematurely ending his sentence to stomp over and chastise Wrecker for the sail ties. Leaving you without the promised tour of the ship and very little knowledge on what you should do with yourself in the meantime. You briefly think about exploring yourself but decide to not push your luck. “If you’re not going to help, the least you could do is stand out of our way.” A gruff voice says from behind you, making you jump, how the captain snuck behind you unnoticed is a mystery. “What would you like me to do?” You ask, hoping to be helpful and ease his wrath. His stare to you is unnerving like he is analyzing your abilities. “Go find Gonk, and see what you can make of her.” He says before stepping past you - or rather, barging by so that you leap yourself into the wall just to get out of his way. “Who’s Gonk?” You shout after him and as he turns to answer Wrecker steps in. “You’ll love her!” he exclaims, and you realize his eye patch for the first time, and the pink scarred skin that crawls into the left side of his face like a spider's web. “Follow me, little miss!” He says crossing the deck and watching your awe when you see how high up Crosshair really is in the crows nest and your smile as he wrestles with Tech who's trying to communicate with him on the ground. “What’s your name lil’ miss?” Wrecker asks, pulling you away from the marvel, much to the delight of your neck as it relaxes from the extreme angle. You give your full name and watch as he shakes his head. “I meant like your nickname, what do you like to be called?” He corrects pushing a small door open ever so slightly. You pause, you don’t really have a nickname or a short form you like. “I guess I do not have one…” you trail off, “Tech said Aaray earlier, but i have a feeling it isn’t exactly a compliment.” You press one hand into the other, a disgusting nervous habit that your father tried to rid you of. Claiming the popping sounds were unlady-like and barbaric. “I think it suits you.” Wrecker exclaims with a laugh, but quells it when he sees your distressed face. “In a good way I mean, it’s a funny nickname for you Little Miss.” “And accurate…” Crosshair comments as he goes by up the stairs you and Wrecker are currently under in order to get to the small door. “What does it mean?” you ask, thankful that the breeze has let up thanks to the alcove. And it is much less bright down here, you can actually look at Wrecker without squinting. “WRECKER!” Someone screams above you, and raises your eyebrows at the sound, which is followed immediately by a laugh from your tall companion, before he turns away and dashes up the stairs, making a thunderous sound above you. Marvelling at having been forgotten a second time, you realise that these clones- or rather men, are probably not used to company. But rather than waiting for someone to find you, you decide to push
the door open. The end of your dress is fraying, the sleeves pushed up to give you more mobility, and the sight of your hand against the oak makes you want to laugh. Your father would be mortified to see you in this state, and that thought alone allows contentment to settle in your stomach. “Gonk?” You ask, pushing the door open all the way. This room is small, the smallest you’ve seen on the ship, with no windows and the only door being the one you currently stand in. The far corner opposite that of you, sits a GNK droid, it’s legs torn apart and panels missing from what would've been its front facing port. And as you venture further in, you can hear that the droid is still humming away, still trying to generate power. Behind you the door swings shut. And in the time it takes you to turn and react to the swoosh noise, and then back to the droid a pair of eyes, mismatched in colour, appear in the darkness. You freeze staring into the little beads of colour, one Purple and one blue, they blink at you. Before disappearing again back into the droid. And through the rummaging and eating sounds, you can guess where it went. Tiptoeing back to the door, you open it again looking for something to brace it on before the creature gets away. Grumbling when you don't see anything, you unlace one of your boots and wedge it between the door and the wall, before awkwardly stepping your way back to the GNK droid. This time when the eyes appear you see the small creature's face. Mismatched white and black fur that covers its body in patches, leaving some areas bare to the world. With paws ending in claws makes you think it could be some sort of Loth cat. But as it scurries up the wall you see it’s side orientated legs, long tail, lack of ears, and most shocking of all wings. Your gasp must startle it because the next thing you know it’s leaping towards you as you let out an undignified shriek. You feel its feet on your face as it crawls up to nestle in your hair, further disturbing the fancy updo you once had. “Wrecker!” You call into the darkness, thinking about how you ended up in this predicament, one boot missing and an unknown creature in your hair. When no one answers your call, you decide to become a lot less lady-like. “WRECKER!” You shout, which disrupts the animal and causes it to crawl and sit on the small of your back. The door opens to reveal a surprised clone, probably not expecting your voice to reach such levels. And as one eyebrow raises at you when you spin to face him. “What is it, Little Miss?” He asks, and you gingerly turn around to show him your new companion. “Oh, uh… TECH.” He shouts, deciding fairly quickly that this was not within his abilities to deal with. You turn your head to give him the side eye of disapproval, before Tech, holopad in hand greets you at the doorway. “Oh.” He echoes his older brother, “this is an interesting development.” He comments on venturing into the room. “I would beg to differ.” you counter. Tensing again as it moves from you back and up into the wisps of hair at your neck. “It appears to enjoy your body heat.” He adds as it begins to nuzzle into the space where your neck and shoulder scrunch in panic. “It was in the droid.” you tell him putting emphasis on ‘in’ and how you do not want to join in with that. “Must be a relative of the Ordo Moon Dragon, except this species seems much smaller, and descends explicitly from its older feathered relatives.” “That doesn’t exactly solve my current predicament.” You murmur to yourself, turning your head further away from the speckled thing. And it makes a small noise in disapproval as it can no longer burrow into your neck. It’s a kind of ‘puurrrrl’ sound, with rolling ‘r’s and a curious emphasis on the end of the sound. And its tail brushes your cheek as it turns to face tech. Before leaping over to him and landing on his HUD portion of his goggles. You turn around freely now, watching as it begins gnawing on the HUD and licking at the glass with its translucent tongue. “As I suspected.” Tech declares unphased, “it feeds on
energy. Hence the fate of the GNK droid.” “Haha!” Wrecker chuckles, “that's why we call er’ Gonk.” “It’s not dangerous, scans say its an Alach moon dragon, similar to a Kashyyykian Gecko.” You look at him skeptically. “It’s got fur.” You comment, having poured over natural encyclopedias long enough to know that most reptiles are not, in fact, furred. “Small feathers to be exact.” Tech corrects, “perhaps a result of our run from Kamino to Geonosis…” Tech thinks aloud, reaching up to carefully remove the creature from his goggles and place it back into your hands. “What does that mean?” You enquire staring at the mini-dragon a little less scared now. “We did a supply run of genect-” “The lady doesn't need to know about that Wrecker.” Tech hisses, “have manners.”he says with a glare, you hear a muffled apology before deciding to cut in. “The lady is also tired of her own lack of knowledge.” You add, wanting to giggle at how improper you’re being, feeling like a little kid sneaking too many sweets before a meal. You smile wholeheartedly when Wrecker’s face lights up. “The Genosians have underground fighting rings that the kaminoans provide spliced animals for. Mismatched creatures to battle each other for entertainment.” Crosshair says, toeing his big brothers to the side as he catches the tail end of your conversation. He smirks when your face falls in sadness. And Tech stares at his brother, sufficanlty unimpressed with his incessant need to create chaos wherever he went. Absent-mindedly you scratch under the creature's chin in pity, feeling better when it coo’s out in enjoyment. “Shall I just work the ship myself then?” the captain's voice travels in, prompting the three clones to rush back outside and causing the dragon to startle and make its way back into your hair. Hunter leans on the frame and crosses his arms at you. “I, uh- found Gonk.” you offer him nervously. “You found a pest.” He says. “That ate our droid.” He adds looking at the remnants of the GNK. “Did you not know it was here?” You ask, wondering about what else might be lurking in the darkness. “Are you trying to undermine my position as captain?” He asks walking up to you, but with your new friend in your hair you do not want to move and disturb her. “N- no.” you answer quickly. “That's ‘no captain’ to you.” He seethes. “No captain.” you repeat firmly. Trying to steady yourself under his gaze, it’s so intense you feel like you’re swaying, but that could just be the motion of the ship. Hunter smells like a fireplace in a blizzard, something sharp, Smokey and warm. You blink at him, doing your best to stare eye to eye. He looks at you for just a second longer than what one would call normal, before plucking Gonk out of your hair and leaving the room with her in his grasp.
Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets
@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu
@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @starskenobiwan @lordellbell
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tendous-socks · 3 years
Text
do you know, the muffin man?
platonic baji and chifuyu x reader 
title has nothing to do with the actual plot lol
not proof read
saber is my dog who passed when i was little and i missed him.
idk what's going on with the capitalization, 
a warm up of sorts ;)
“That's what a mommy’s boy would say” “Hey”
It was summer nights like these you'd never forget.
The crisp air that danced in your lungs when you took a deep, filling breath. Or the gathering of stars overhead that watched you as you made your way home. like your own personal guardian angels.
Lights flickered off one by one as the night grew older and the street lamps stood proudly in their stead. It was nights like these that made you feel at ease. So much so that you felt that saber, your fat, lovable mush of a dog would just love to go on a midnight walk.
Although midnight was… less than ideal, you didn't plan to stay so late at cram school, the janitor nearly kicked you out himself when he saw you so absorbed in your homework. the furrowed look etched upon his face when he asked why you were doing all that on a friday evening, when you should be home with your family, or out doing illegal things with your friends.
You gripped the straps on your backpack just tighter just thinking about it.
you'll just have to stay up and finish it later then, after talking your beloved golden out for his much deserved walk.
Rounding the corner, you spotted your apartment complex as it stood tall amongst the houses surrounding it. Almost out of place.
The lights illuminating the road almost like a pathway home as you continued on. Your silent footsteps duetting the chirping of cicadas.
Pesky little things liked to choir all night singing melodies of long before as they woke up from their decades of slumber.
my god you couldn't get home fast enough.
which wouldn't be a problem if you didn't hear an excruciatingly loud cackle from your complex.
and due to the light of the street lamps, if you could squint hard  enough you could see the silhouettes of two people sitting on the stairs that allowed you to go up…
damn it
this was gonna be weird 
as silent as a church mouse, you trudged your way over to them. Thoughts a second as you scratched your brain for something to say
something that you wont wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat regretting saying.
“uhm excuse me… i need to get up there so, yeah” you said, knuckles white as you felt your body heat up. 
You didn't bother to catch a full glance at them, only noting their black uniforms and that one had long, black hair and another had a yellow undercut.
“Oh yeah sure! Sorry about that..” You chuckled nervously as the yellow one scooched over a bit allowing you to squeeze your way up 
“Yeah no problem”
Taking the first few steps up, making sure not the disturb the two, you debated neither sprinting up or just quietly walking. Of course all plans were thrown out the window when another, raspier voice asked “why’re you out so late? “
Your foot stopped almost immediately.
What?
You gulped thickly. “ oh, no reason, i just had cram school and lost track of the time ya’ know?” No of course they don't know because they obviously don't go to your cram school !
Almost as if he had an epiphany, the longer haired boy shot up like a rocket as he turned to fully face you.
“ wait a minute- that means you're smart right?”
“Baji no-” “ hey you mind helping us with our midterms? I don't wanna fail them and make my mom cry again, wouldn't be right”
“Oi baji! Who said I needed help? I'm the one who's tutoring you!” the blondie argued back, voices echoing up around and through the staircase as you finally looked at the two of them.
chifuyu , who you now recognize as a delinquent and baji… who you've never seen in your life both apparently went to your school as you faintly recalled a morning announcement of both their names being called and summoned to the principal's office.
As well as the rumors that surrounded them both as you remembered the whispers upon whispers of gossip dripping from your friends mouth like sugar coated honey, too tempting not to take a bite out of.
All in all, they were trouble.
“Uh haha yeah, I'm sorry. I don't think I'll be of any use to you since I'm not the brightest of people, I'm sorry I have to go, have a good night though.”
And like cinderella you dashed off up stairs. Not even bothering to look back or hide your footsteps as you heard baji call and complain for you to come back and how chifuyu ruined his chances of passing his terms.
but of course, you were back downstairs… not exactly downstairs as you were on one of the landings that separated the floors, the soft fluff of sabers tail wagging excitedly as you held onto his blue, rope leash as you stared down the stairs wondering why exactly the two of them were  still. here.
You groaned internally as you took a step back, pulling lightly on his leash as you went to go back down the hall and into the safety of your apartment. Already thinking of excuses to tell your mom why you didn't take your baby for his daily walk.
Plop
…. 
You tugged on the leash a little harder, only to no avail as your lab stared up at you with a little smile..
This son of a bitch.
“C'mon saber lets go, I promise I'll take you on two walks tomorrow, so please let's just go” you whined, crouching down next to him as you went to softly push at his side. 
But like the anchor he is, he didn't budge.
“Please saber c’mon i wanna go home now lets go you fat little man” you moaned as you stole a glance towards the stairs, hoping to god you didn't alert the two.
But alas, you were met with a pair of blue and golden eyes staring at you curiously. Though the curiosity in their eyes didn’t overshadow the way they loomed over you and you little man, both of them blocking any whisper of light that tried to escape through as it haloed blindingly around them.
‘ oh it’s you- i didn't know you had a dog” baji said as a smile grew on his face as he slowly knelt down as your dog’s tail quickly went to whipping your side as you just gawked at him.
“Oi baji, you have to ask to pet him, er her. ``Chifuyu went to look at you, eyebrows raised as his friend simply ignored him and continued caressing your dog.
“do they bite?” was the only response you got from the black haired boy, his eyes meeting yours briefly as his smile stood pride on his beaming face.
“I do well, I guess it's fine. Don't worry about it, Saber, he’s really friendly and loves people, so he won't bite '' you spoke as chifuyu hesitantly went to start touching his golden fur, the dim midnight lighting doing him zero justice.
Though when you were nestled in your bed with your big ol’ security guard crushing your feet to the point where they'd both turn shades of blue and purples, you could really see how vibrant and golden his fur really was.
Smiling softly as the saber excitedly sniffed baji’s hand as the latter held a smile as big as the sun and eyes creased like a young boy who just got his favorite candy.
you noted how his other hand was scratching exactly where you knew your dog was ticklish, his leg going to scratch the same spot as he let out a low chuckle.
Quietly looking at chifuyu, you saw him quite engrossed in what baji was doing as he stared at where your dog was battling baji’s hand for scratching rights.
“ You really love him, yeah?”
“Hm? Pardon?”
“You’re dog…” “Saber”
“Yep. i can see it all over your face and his body that you spoil him like a little rich kid”
You laughed at his little comment as you went to play with his floppy ears “yep/ he’s my little spoiled brat who loves food and cuddles and will absolutely die if you don't take him on a walk or two during that day”
“ sorry about earlier, baji is just very… passionate about his grades” “ oh is that so?”
“ yeah, that and he doesn't want his mom to be upset about him being held back… again” With a light squeeze to the saber's ear, you took a risk as you opened your mouth.
“Oh, so he's a mama’s boy then?” “Exactly” “Hey I'm not! “
You and Chifuyu looked at each other and hummed in agreement.
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notbleachtea · 3 years
Text
Favorite Shirt
Okay time to post again. Slight warnings, mention of death, toxic relationship, slight emotional abuse.
Word count ~2.9k
"Tch, I guess it’s about time I clean my desk. I can't work with all of this crap on it." Jotaro annoyedly says.
While cleaning off the countless stacks of paper he pauses. All desire to clean is quickly knocked out of him. He sits back down in his desk chair holding the group picture you all took in Egypt. He glances over each face in the image, some happy memories, some not so much. He would give anything to go back in time to change the way things played out. So many stupid mistakes. His eyes immediately halt when he gets to yours. His face expressed sorrow and longing.
His favorite memories of the two of you start to come rushing back to his head, and for a moment, he smiles. The constant flirting that always occured between the two of you. The silent stares you each felt from one another. No matter how much the others teased you two, you still weren't sure if admitting your feelings was the best idea. You each had your own reasons for keeping distant. The mission was much more important anyway, and so was your friendship.
He recalls one of his favorite memories with you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been a long week of tiresome stand battles, the closer you got to Egypt, the more intense they became. He noticed this was taking quite the toll on you and made the gang find a hotel that night so you could get some much needed rest. In the meantime he suggested that you use him as a pillow in the car on the way there.
Honestly, you took him up on the offer. You took everything you could at the time knowing that it would never go any further no matter how bad you wanted it to. Your head rested on his large chest, which was surprisingly soft for how tough he was. Every now and then he'd tug on his hat to cover his face when in fact he was just trying to steal a few glances at your peaceful, resting figure.
"Alright, we're here, group up and we'll get going into our rooms," Joseph states.
"I ca-"
"She's staying with me. There's no discussing it." Jotaro then picks you up and carries you to your room.
You started to wake up from the movements and the background noise going on in the hotel, and the first thing you saw was Jotaro's face when you opened your
eyes.
"Clearly I must be dreaming," you thought.
"Look who decided to wake up." he scoffed at you. "Really left it up to me to carry you all the way up here."
"I'm so sorry! I won't let it-"
"That's enough. I was just kidding anyway. You fought really hard today, it's the least I could do."
You smiled back at him as he set you down on the bed. That was honestly all the thanks he needed.
"Anyway, I'm going to go get something to eat, I'll bring something back for you if you want, but you should probably get some real rest soon."
You began to crawl up into the bed in your dirty and torn clothes from the day you just had.
"Good grief, what do you think you're doing? You're really going to sleep in a nice clean bed in your dirty clothes??"
"Well, I don't really have any clean clothes left right now, so, unless you have a better ide-"
You were quickly cut off with a soft hit to the face. Jotaro threw one of his clean shirts at you.
"Here. You can use this. It'll be more comfortable anyway."
Jotaro had left to go pick up some food and when he came back he was greeted with his favorite shirt filled with his favorite person. Wearing only that shirt made you look much smaller than you actually were, it practically went down to your knees.
"Thanks Jotaro! I promise I'll get it back to you as soon as I can."
"Keep it. It looks better on you anyway." He cooly tried to say as he pulled his hat down over his eyes.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After everything that had happened in Egypt, you just wanted to get away from it all for a while. Go out on your own to a new place with no reminder of the loved ones you lost and all the feelings you never acted on. As a thank you for your hard work, the SpeedWagon Foundation offered to pay for everything of whatever you decided to do. You thought maybe you'd try going to school in America for a while. It was great, you had all the experiences you grew up seeing in movies and on TV. You made plenty of new friends there and even dipped your toes in the dating pool.
Right after you finished school, you and your boyfriend got married. You thought that's what you ought to do, you've been with him for so long. Everyone thought you were the perfect couple. He always took you out on extravagant dates and bought you expensive jewelry. Every girl wanted to be you. But that was only because they didn't know what happened behind closed doors. He never physically hurt you, not many people could, I mean you could hold your
own in Egypt, you're pretty tough, but mentally, he knew you were weak. You would confide in him in the beginning of your relationship about all your friends back home that you missed. He never let you call home or talk to them either. The ones you could never see again. Everytime he wanted you to hurt he would just remind you that they were dead because you weren't there for them, you weren't strong enough to save them. Countless letters came in from your friends and family and he'd throw them away before you could see them. He would even tell you that no one was writing to you anymore.
Every now and then you manage to chat with Jotaro. He'd call you on your lunch break at work from time to time just to play catch up. Asking things like 'how's life?' and 'are you doing okay?' and the sort of thing. Everytime you told him you were doing great. You love your husband and you even try to brag about how well he treats you by describing all the luxurious gifts he's been buying you. Everytime Jotaro ended the call saying he was happy for you and then a
quick update on his life.
To be honest, Jotaro wasn't falling for your phone calls. He knew something was wrong, but he never knew how bad it really was. He thought it was strange that you never wrote to him or called him outside of your work hours. It was also strange how you never really went into depth about your personal life either.
One fateful day, you're having a routine call with Jotaro when your husband decided to stop by to take you out to lunch. He asked the secretary why your door was closed to which she simply responded, "Oh, she's talking to her childhood friend Jotaro! He usually calls about this time every week."
He walks into your office catching you off guard while you're still on the phone. The shock alone causes you to drop the phone with a quiet screech.
"Y/n, are you there?" Jotaro stays on the line worried about what he just heard.
Your husband shuts your office door leaving just the two of you in there and is yelling just loud enough to where your coworkers can't hear him.
"I thought I told you no one wanted to talk to you anymore? They're all fed up with you, can't believe you let your friends die back in Egypt. They'll never
forgive you for that."
"You're right I'm sorry just please don't do this here."
"What makes you think you can tell *me* what to do? That's not how this works. And who gave you permission to talk to other guys? There's going to be some serious consequences for this when you come home." He walks out of your office smiling at all of your coworkers like nothing had just happened, followed by a shut of your office door and your muffled cries.
"Y/n?? Are you still there? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"Wh- what did you hear?" You managed to squeak out, choking back tears.
"I heard enough y/n, he's not a good guy. I knew something was wrong. We have to get you out of there."
"No. This is my life now. I don't need your help, I told you I'm perfectly fine."
"Y/n I'm not kidding, you have to get out of there *now* and I won't take no for an answer."
"I can't, okay! I have nowhere to go. No one would believe me if I said the things he's done to me. Anyone who I try to run to just rats me out to him and the situation gets worse."
"Y/n, go pack your most essential things while he's out of the house. I'm buying you a ticket home for tonight. You'll be safe here this time tomorrow."
The instant care Jotaro had just shown you only causes you to cry more. How could you let yourself get like this? You really weren't okay. You were just too headstrong to admit anything was wrong.
"Thank you." You were able to muster through even more tears.
After picking yourself up off the floor and drying your face, you left your office, no intention to come back. You rushed home to grab only your essential items while your husband was finishing his day at work. You grabbed a few sets of clothing, your toothbrush, hair and makeup accessories, a few pairs of shoes, and your folder of important documents. Everything else was replaceable and or retrievable at a later date.
You take a deep breath and get the courage to call a ride to the airport.
Free from your husband's control, you weren't scared to text or call Jotaro on your own phone now. You called him letting him know that you were on your way.
One short plane ride across the ocean later and Jotaro was waiting there for you to take you home. You're not sure how long he was there for but you're convinced he was waiting there since before you even took off.
"Y/n, over here." He waves you over.
You walk over shyly and ashamed of what he had witnessed just the day before. You couldn't even pick your head up enough to look him in the eyes.
"Y/n it's okay now. You're here with me, he can't get to you right now."
"Ye- yeah I guess you're right. So where do I go now?"
"C'mon, I'll take you back to my place."
"We're stopping there before the hotel?"
"I'm not letting you stay alone right now. You're staying with me at my house. The only reason I let you fly alone was because it got you out of there faster."
Jotaro takes your bag and you both head to the taxi.
"C'mon short stuff, get those legs movin' faster."
"Hey! Not everyone can be freakishly tall."
Jotaro raises one eyebrow, "So I'm a freak, aye?"
"Sorr-"
"Don't apologize, you're already more vocal when you're free around here. I like it."
The taxi drops you two off at his house. The drive felt like an eternity when in reality it was only a few short minutes. You stared out the car door window in awe.
*So this is what he's been up to this whole time*
"Well c'mon now, let's get inside."
You quickly follow after him like a lost puppy.
"There's a spare bedroom upstairs and down the hall, why don't you take this time to relax and freshen up while I make us something to eat?"
"You really don't have to do this for me Jotaro, but I appreciate it."
You head upstairs with your bag. It really was a long flight. You decide to take a quick shower and put on some clean clothes.
About an hour goes by when Jotaro comes by your room to collect you.
"Dinners ready y/n."
"Okay, I'll be right out, I just have to put some makeup on first."
"Uhh, what for? We're not going out anywhere."
"I don't know. I just always do. He always made me wear makeup, even at the house, I guess I'm just used to it."
Jotaro quickly turns around and starts heading towards the kitchen, but not without leaving a remark, "well don't. You look better without it anyway."
You follow soon after him with a fresh blank face. The table has already been set beautifully and you can already smell your favorite dish. He brings over two plates of food followed by a new bottle of wine.
"Why don't we catch up for real this time?" He asks.
Hours go by at the dinner table along with a few bottles of wine. The two of you bickering just like the old days. You missed this. You needed this.
You finally caught a glimpse of the time and stood up to help clean up the table.
"You don't need to help clean this up y/n. We can even clean it up tomorrow. Why don't we go talk in the living room for a bit longer?"
You move forward as an attempt to get to the couch, finally realizing how much you actually drank, you're quite tipsy in fact. Jotaro moves over to the couch to join you. Sitting side by side he grabs your hand with a guilty look on his face.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry this happened to you. It's all my fault."
Clearly he's a bit tipsy too if he's actually trying to admit being at fault right now.
"None of this is your fault Jotaro, what are you going on about?"
"If I was just straight with you when we were younger. If I actually had the courage to say something to you. Maybe you would have stayed. Maybe you would've ended up with me instead. Instead I thought you were too good for me."
Your eyes start to swell up. "Don't say that. Ever. I'm the one that's not good enough for you. Why would you ever want someone like me?"
"Well, you're you, that's why. You're strong, you held your own in the desert, you tried your hardest for us and you made it out. I've never met anyone as strong as you, and to know that someone took advantage of you? And I wasn't there to protect you? I'm so sorry for all of it."
Now full on ugly crying again, Jotaro wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a hug.
"I'm so sorry Jotaro. Can you forgive me?"
He lifts up your crying head by your chin and brushes all your loose pieces of hair out of your face. He holds you here until you return the look into his deep aqua eyes. He moves forward, crashing his lips into yours. There was no hesitation on your end, you kissed him back just as hungrily. Neither of you needed words to figure out what the other one was thinking. You could feel the admittance of your love for each other from just that embrace. Jotaro pulls back and pushes your head into his chest so he can hold you once again. He pats your head.
"It's all okay now, I'm sorry it took this long," and he leaves a kiss on the top of your head.
The moment is only ended by your yawning since you've been up for lord knows how long. Jotaro picks you up and carries you in his arms to his room. He notices the slight confusion in your face.
"I was thinking maybe you sleep in here with me tonight, kinda like old times?"
"Okay, just let me go change into my pajamas. I don't want to get in the nice clean bed in my dirty clothes.".
You walk back into his room in just his old t-shirt you kept from the desert.
"You really kept that old thing?" He spouted.
"I really did. It's how I kept you close that whole time I was gone." You said with an embarrassed smile.
"It really does look better on you ya know?" He says through a full face of blush. Just seeing you again in that shirt made him think of all the things he wanted to do to you now and then.
You moved to go lay down alongside Jotaro in his massive bed. He always wanted to know what it'd be like to hold you in his arms in his own bed.
Jotaro pulls you into his chest to hold you tight, with no intention of letting you go. He places a delicate kiss on your cheek. You squeeze his hand as a subtle sign of acceptance and nuzzle into his broad figure.
“Goodnight y/n. Sleep tight.”
104 notes · View notes
imkylotrash · 3 years
Text
Glitter In The Air
Pairing: Sky x reader
Request: The reader is the girl Stella blinded and no one believes her that it was Stella not even Sky in the beginning. But in the end they end up back together. Anonymous 
A/N If you want to know where I took inspiration from, it’s Glitter in the Air by Pink 💛
Tagging: @grey-girl @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​ @intoanothermind​ @artsyle​ @baueoud​ @glowingatdawn​ 
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As you enter the dining hall, you feel everyone stare at you. You don’t need to be able to see to know you’re the centre of attention. You can still see shadows so your vision hasn’t been completely lost but Stella ruined your eyes forever that day. You’d never be able to see your mom’s face again or look at the boy you loved. You inch forward getting some food before sitting down. It’s only the second day since you got back, but everyone has treated you like a complete freak for those 48 hours. No one believed Stella had done this to you, not even Sky. 
You’d spent months in the hospital waiting for him to call you or even just text you but he hadn’t. Instead you’d waited by the phone feeling lonely and pathetic. Of course, he didn’t believe you. No one did. Except he was your boyfriend when it happened and you really thought he would care. He was the only one you counted on to have your back but for some reason he took Stella’s side. 
“Hey. Is anyone sitting here?” You look up before realising it doesn’t change much for you. It’s a habit that’s been hard to shake - the need to make eye contact, inspect the face in front of you. Having been robbed of the possibility, you found it mattered even more to you now than before. 
“No, it’s fine.” You don’t recognise her voice which means she must be a first year. The only year that wouldn’t know what had happened to you. Carefully, you remove the sunglasses you’ve been wearing waiting for the person to notice. You’ve been told that your eyes look charred as if your eyes had been on fire. Suppose with Stella’s powers they had. 
“What’s your name?” the stranger asks completely ignoring your eyes. It’s weird but nice. You like not having to explain it or be called a liar when people refuse to believe your story. 
“Y/N. You?” 
“Bloom. I just started and I didn’t see anyone I knew so I figured I could sit with you.” Of course, she thought so. It’s easy sitting down next to the outcast. Tomorrow, she’ll not want to sit with you when she realises what’s happened. 
“Please. Don’t slum down.” Now that voice you’d recognise anywhere. A chill spreads down your spine just by hearing her talk. You can’t believe you have to go to school with the perpetrator just because she’s the princess of Solaria and you’re the poor girl who no one believed. 
“Stella! This is Y/N. She’s really nice.” Bloom seems outraged over Stella’s comment but it’s far from the worst Stella has said to you. 
“It’s fine, Bloom. I’m done anyway,” you smile before carefully following the wall down the hall. It’s a good thing you have a mental map of Alfea so you actually know where you’re going. You’d needed to learn it for a prank where getting away quickly had been crucial. That was when the two boys, Sky and Riven, still talked to you. 
“1, 2, 3, 4...” You’re not prepared for someone turning the corner and walking right into you. If it hadn’t been for them catching you, you would’ve fallen ass down. 
“Thank!” you exclaim finding your place on the wall again. You could go years without touching him and still recognise him immediately. Electricity cackles between your skin and his. He’s holding you so gently, you feel like crying again but you’re not going to. He had every chance to believe you and stand up for you, but he didn’t. 
“No, I’m sorry. I should watch where I’m going.” His voice brings back memories you’ve been trying to avoid. Picnic on the field with you feeding him a strawberry and then absolutely cracking up because it turned out to be the most unsexy thing ever. Him asking you to close your eyes and trust him because he had something huge planned; a trip to Earth. That was the place he picked because he knew how much you loved small villages and the countryside in England was perfect for exploring and finding tiny villages that had stayed under the radar of tourism. 
“I guess we’re both sorry then.” You don’t know what else to say because what do you say to the boy who refused to believe you when you told him how you got hurt? You wanted him to apologise and say he believed you. Instead he walks past you mumbling something about being late for class. You don’t meet him again until the specialists’ party. You hear Riven use your story as a horror story meant to scare of Bloom but if you know Sky right, she’s not even his type. That’s what sets this whole thing in motion. You’re about to leave when he corners you. His breath smells like cheap beer and punch letting you know that he hasn’t been taking it easy tonight. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers leaning his forehead on your shoulder. You want to push him away and tell him to never talk to you again but god, you’ve missed him. 
“Sorry for what?” you ask standing completely still. It’s been months since anyone’s touched you. The doctors tried to but you hated being touched. Ever since Stella blinded you, you’d been struggling with being touched but Sky was the exception. 
“Riven told Bloom about you and I defended Stella. But when I confronted her, she admitted to it. She admitted to blinding you and I didn’t believe you all those months ago.” You feel something wet hit your shoulder and it takes a second for you to realise that he’s crying. It’s hot, fresh tears because he didn’t believe you. 
“Why didn’t you believe me when I told you?” This is not the right time. He’s drunk and emotional. Your therapist would most definitely scold you for this because all you’re doing is ask for trouble. 
“Because I’m an idiot. I have no real reason other than I got swept away with everyone else believing Stella over you. I should’ve questioned her explanation much sooner.” It’s everything you’ve dreamed of hearing but it clings hollow when you think about the fact that he’s drunk right now. He might think differently in the light of day. 
“You’re drunk. Come find me tomorrow if you still want to apologise then.” You gently take a step to the side breaking the contact between you and Sky. After that you go straight to bed anxious for the next day. Even if he shows up, it’ll still be a lot of work for you to be able to trust him again. He broke your heart siding with Stella and you’re not sure you could go through that again. 
He finds you the next night asking you to follow him. It takes your breath away seeing his shadow but knowing you’ll never again be able to enjoy his face. You can’t believe how much Stella took from you that day and all because she was jealous. 
“I still want to apologise,” he says once you’re finally outside. The moon is so huge and bright today that you can vaguely spot it. Something that doesn’t happen often anymore. The healers did an amazing job on your eyes even though they didn’t manage to fix them entirely. 
“I never should’ve believed Stella. And I can think of a million excuse but you deserve better than that. So, I’ll just say that I’m sorry and I take full responsibilities for what happened between the two of us. I should’ve believed you and stood by you.” It’s nice for someone to finally believe you but you’re hesitant taking him back. What about next time something happens? Will he not believe you then? 
“How can I trust that?” you ask. 
“By letting me show you. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but I promise you this time I’ll be different. If you ask me to, I’ll do anything for you. I’ll climb up and bring back a piece of the moon if that’s what you want me to do.” 
“What if I want the full moon?” 
“Then I’ll bring you the full moon. I just need you to know how deeply sorry I am for ever hurting you and abandoning you when you needed me the most.” You don’t want this night to end. You’ve waited so long to hear him say this and now he’s saying everything you hoped for. 
“I would need to take it slow. I want to trust you, but...” You wish he’d touch you so that you could him there. It’s not the same just hearing his voice. 
“I get it. I wouldn’t either if the roles were reversed. But I promise I’ll spend the rest of our lives making up for this.” He’s close enough for you to feel his breath hit your skin. He’s letting you decide if you want to close the gap and in turn agree to a second chance. 
“I can’t get hurt like that again,” you whisper fighting a losing battle against the tears forming in your eyes. 
“I know, sugar.” You close the gap unable to resist any longer. Hearing his old nickname for you is what tips the boat. Some might say you’re an idiot for believing him and forgiving him but the heart wants what the heart wants. You want to give him a second chance to prove that’s matured over the past months. 
“Thank you for giving me a second chance.” As you struggle a little to catch your breath, you can’t help but think that it’ll never be better than tonight. 
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thisisarcanereverie · 3 years
Text
Should’ve Known Chapter 11
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A/N: 
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either.
WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, the stages of grief, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out.
WORDS : 4,910
SUMMARY: the Final Battle ensues, and tearful goodbyes are made as finally this chapter of your life closes for good. 
In case you missed last chapter
series masterlist
ULTIMATE MASTERLIST
“(Y/n)...” Wanda whispered under her breath. She whipped her head to where Agatha was previously. She watched as your double disappeared in a ploom of red smoke. It was an illusion, her illusion. In her desperation she hadn’t noticed, but now she could see it clearly. Her head tilted dangerously, her green eyes narrowing. 
“Nice to see you again Hagatha,” You greeted as you felt the dark haired woman’s breath on your neck. “I see you’re doing well.” 
“Better than you at least,” Agatha quipped. Wanda’s hands raised as she stared menacingly at Agatha. Her hands were already enveloped in a scarlet hue. 
“Let her go.”
“Now, now Wanda,” Agatha tutted as you felt her magic wrap itself around your neck. “You don’t want to risk hurting her do you? I mean....she is expecting after all.” You felt your heart stop as Wanda’s hands lowered ever so slightly. 
“What does she mean (Y/n)?”
“Oh my,” Agatha gasped mockingly as you shake ever so slightly, “you still haven’t told her (Y/n)? This is so awkward, well I guess once the cats out of the bag you can’t very well put it back in can you” 
“Wand-” You barely got through her name when you felt all the air leave your body and the tightness around your throat burned furiously. You clawed frantically at your neck hoping somehow to relieve the pressure and burning. Your eyes lose focus, and just when your vision is going dark. You crumpled to your knees and breathed in heavy gulps of hair, coughing dryly as you did. You suddenly feel familiar hands wrap themselves around your body protectively. 
Your eyes met a familiar green. Wanda’s face was that mixed with worry and anger and something else you couldn’t quite place. 
“Are you ok?” Wanda asked frantically, her eyes quickly scanning your body. Her eyes and hands linger on your slightly swollen abdomen. Her eyes became watery as she stared at it. 
“I’m ok Wands.”
“She wasn’t lying.” Wanda whispered, almost talking to herself. 
“Wanda,” you whisper to her, she didn’t respond instead her hands and eyes stared at your stomach. Your hand reached to cup her cheek and you gently forced her to meet your eyes. “We will talk about it later, I promise, but right now there is a 330 year old murderous hag that needs to be taken care of.”
Wanda nodded after a moment. She rose to her feet and helped you onto yours, never letting go of your hand and her eyes never deviating from your form. 
“You need to go.” Wanda said, panic began to bubble it’s way to your throat. 
“Not without you.” 
“Listen to your lover, lover girl.” You hear Agatha quip as your eyes find her. Her hands were surrounded in purple light. Your eyes tear themselves away from her and to Wanda, whose jaw is set and glared at Agatha more vehetimesly than before. Her hands moved from yours and to your shoulders protectively. 
“Don’t worry about me Солнечный свет” Wanda assured you. She tore her eyes away from Agatha to yours, the poisonous look before melted away at the sight of you. “I’m going to send you to Steve, he’ll protect you.” 
“Wanda-” and with that you suddenly find yourself in the middle of town, Steve right beside you. 
“Doll?” Steve asked his eyes searching yours, for once it seemed as though the real him was there with you. The red mist in his eyes was gone, instead it was just him. baby blue eyes and all. 
You don’t know who hugged who first, but suddenly you find yourself enveloped in his arms. You felt your heart crumble ever so slightly at the action of his arms flexing around you. After a few seconds you try to break away, only to have him resist you. 
“Steve, you can let go now.” 
“If I let you go, how can I be sure that Wanda won’t replace you again?” 
You felt lead settle at your stomach as you processed his words. 
“So you know.” 
“I’ve known for a while now, doll,” Steve said, releasing his hold on you slightly. Just enough to look at his face. His face was contorted into a bittersweet expression. A face you knew all too well. Flashes of that day came and went in your mind. 
“How?”
“It started around the same time you started waking up as well. Although I wasn’t fully awake by the time you were, I had doubts. It wasn’t until I came home and found a new you that I remember what happened the day this,” he motioned around him, “happened.”
Just as you were to probe further, you saw Steve’s eyes move away from your form and to the sky. You followed his eyes to see Agatha flying above, as well as Vision and someone cloaked in white. 
You looked back at Steve and him at you. Without words he understood. 
“You sure you’re up to it ?” He asked, hands gracing your stomach. You couldn’t ask how he knew, there wasn’t time. You’ll have to talk to him later, if there is time. 
“Why? feeling tired Gramps.” You teased as you moved away from his embrace. He sent you a wink before you both took off in seperate directions. While the rest were fighting in the air, you and Steve quickly cleared the streets of Westview residents. You placed them in the one area you were certain they would be safest. The theater. 
You had nearly gotten everyone when you saw Wanda fly to the ground. Her eyes made eye contact with you for a mere second before she suddenly face planted on the concrete under her. 
“(Y/n),” Steve called, bringing your attention back to the task at hand. You knew the priority was to get people to safety and that Wanda could take care of herself. You just were worried that Agatha might be too much for Wanda to take on alone. 
Reluctantly you carried out the rest of your task, you got every civilian you could to a safe place where they most likely wouldn’t be harmed. 
“I’M NOT WHAT YOU SAY I AM!” You heard Wanda yell at Agatha, you turn your head and before you know it you see Agatha flick her wrist and suddenly every civilian is back out and crowding Wanda. 
You didn’t bother listening as Steve yelled at you to stay back, you knew Wanda didn’t do well in crowds. And these people looked ready to tear her apart. You didn’t care if you got hurt, you knew Wanda was already under enough emotional stress. You knew that this was Agatha’s plan, you knew Agatha knew Wanda’s powers were tied to her emotions. One meltdown resulted in the Hex after all. You were nervous about what another one might bring on. 
Just as you were closing in on the mob you heard Wanda wail. Suddenly the mob was to their knees, the familiar position that you were in a mere hour or so ago. Your feet pounded against the pavement until finally your arms enveloped the weeping woman. Your hand combed through her red hair and the other rubbed familiar soothing circles on her back. You often did this to calm her after her nightmares. 
“Wands,” You whisper in her ear, you silently shush her. “Wands breathe,” You encouraged, “breathe babe.” 
The red magic that suffocated the townspeople evaporated soon enough. You released your hold on Wanda. Tears ran down her face as she apologized profusely. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Wanda repeated brokenly. 
“If you won’t let us go,” the blonde woman said, “let us die instead.” 
“I will,” Wanda said, her eyes searching the crowd, “I will let you go. I will. I will.” 
“What’s stopping you?” You turn to Agatha, “Use your power and do it now. Heroes don’t torture people.” 
“(Y/n) step back please.” Wanda said, You looked in her eyes and silently asked if she was sure. When you found no hesitancy you walked back to Steve, who stood there waiting for you.
Wanda let out a strained yell as she slowly disintegrated the scarlet walls of the hex. 
‘Go, now, all of you!” Wanda hurried with strain in her voice. The townspeople quickly scrambled to their knees, scattering in different directions. Steve held your hand firmly as you both watched the scene unfold. When you hear familiar laughter coming from the hag above a sinking feeling takes over. You could see in her eyes that you all were playing her game perfectly. Doing exactly as she wants you to. 
“Now you’ll see.” Agatha said ominously. 
You and Steve looked at each other in concern. 
“What do you think she means by-” Steve started before he clenched his chest, gripping the light cotton shirt in an iron grip. He falls to his knees beside you, his hold on your hand went slack as he tried to steady himself on the ground. 
“Steve?!” You exclaim as you kneel beside him. It took you a minute to notice him disintegrating before your eyes. Your heart begins to beat erratically against your chest as memories of the Snap play through your mind. Memories of your comrades turning to dust beside you. 
A moment later you hear a loud crash and turn to see Vision, very much in the same condition as Steve. 
You silently prayed and relieved through the horrific memories of the snap. You knew that this was different, but it looks so much like they were dusting away before your eyes. 
You see Vision stand and try to reach out to Wanda. Desperately seeking her out. You see Wanda gasp with even more tears in her eyes as she realizes what’s happening. 
You tore your eyes from Wanda to Agatha, who stood there smugly, watching as the scene unfolds. 
That vicious, lying cu-
“Now do you see,” Agatha started, “You tied your loves to this twisted world and now one can’t exist without the other.” Vision drops to his knees, but continues crawling to her. Steve holds onto your hand, pain evident in his eyes and it breaks your heart. 
“Save Westview or save your happily ever after...you’re choice.” 
Steve and Vision are half gone at this point, during the snap the dusting had been sudden, blink and you would have missed it. But this, this was torture. 
A moment later you notice Steve’s breathing becomes less labored as the broken parts of him start putting themselves back together. You tear your eyes away from the man to the red headed witch in front of you, she’s putting the Hex back together. Finally the red glow around her ceases and she drops to the ground. Once Vision is fully put together you see him jog towards Wanda. And your eyes return to the blonde man in front of you. 
You see him back in one piece, you cradle his face in your hands. 
You didn’t notice the ravenette muttering in latin until you heard Wanda shriek “NO!” before encasing all four of you in a shield. You watch as Agatha cackles and seemingly drains Wanda. You hear Wanda’s painful cries and before you could rush to her side, Steve holds you back. 
“Let me go!” 
“You go to her and Agatha will kill you.” Steve pointed out. You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop you from halfheartedly fighting your way out of his grasp. 
Finally the purple and red magic dissipate and you notice both of Wanda’s arms were dark gray and decaying. You recall Agatha saying she could drain even the most powerful beings of their life force and began to panic. If Wanda fought her, one on one, there was a very good chance of Wanda dying. 
You finally break out of Steve’s hold and practically drag him to where Wanda and Vision were. 
As soon as you get close enough you grasp her hands and check them, the ring on her finger sticking out amongst the decaying gray. 
“Wanda does it hurt?” You ask, she takes a moment to shake her head. 
“Oh how sweet.” Agatha remarks as she flies overhead. 
“Uhhh guys?” Steve called, you all turned your heads to see what looked to be a  white version of Vision. "What the heck is that?” 
You guess Haybitch figured it out. 
“Did you just say heck?” You teased, a small flush of embarrassment creeped onto his face. 
Suddenly your attention was drawn to the shrieking of wheels on pavement as you and the rest spot jeeps of S.W.O.R.D Agents. 
“Fuck me.” You mutter under your breath. 
“Later doll.” Steve teased. You were about to retort when you felt a sudden whoosh of wind and suddenly found Monica next to you and Wanda. 
“Monica?” You asked, Wanda looked over to you and silently worded ‘who’s Monica?’ in which you replied with a gesture to the curly haired woman. 
“I see I came just in time for some fun.” Monica observed. 
“How in the hell did you get here so fast?”
“Let’s just say I know who Jimmy’s witness in protection is now.” Monica replied. 
The agents open the doors and start pouring out of the jeeps. 
All but Haybitch. 
“Avengers,” Steve began eyeing you, Wanda, Vision, and Monica with a cheeky glint in his eyes. “A-”
“Assemble” You cut him off, a cheeky grin of your own. With a nod to Wanda and Vision, the magenta man flew off to the other Vision and crash landed into the library. 
Suddenly the group of Agents were encased in violet light and lifted to the air, You all turn your heads to Agatha with a bitter smirk on her face. 
“Same story different century.” Agatha remarked ruefully, “There will always be torches and pitchforks for ladies like us, Wanda.” finally the magic disappeared from her fingers and the agents were free falling to the ground. With a hurried flourish red light safely landed the agents to the ground. 
“Солнечный свет,” Wanda called to catch your attention. “Take care of the military, I’ll be right back.” With glare sent in Agatha’s way she takes off into the sky again. 
You turn your attention to the men with guns in front of you. Your hand gently touched your stomach, you hoped that the baby was ok. You promised yourself once Westview was over and done with, once you and Wanda talked things out, you’ll go to a doctor. You didn’t know which one yet, but that can be decided later. 
Steve must have noticed your hesitance and gently held your other hand. You looked at him for a moment, his blue eyes unwavering. You looked away from him and returned your attention to the men in front of you. Just as you were about to take a step forward you see a silver blur run past you and suddenly the agents in front of you were unarmed. 
“There’s a man in one of the Jeeps in front of us, I’m assuming he’s the boss-man.”  You whip your head around to see a handsome man with blue silver hair covered by a S.W.O.R.D cap and shades. In front of him were the agents missing weapons. 
There was a silent pause before you turned to Monica who was the only one unfazed by the man's sudden appearance. 
“I’m assuming this is the witness in protection?” 
“Correctamundo.” the man answered, reaching out a hand for a formal handshake. Just as you were about to shake his hand, he turned it into a fist and fist bumped you instead. “My name’s Ralph Bohner.” he slightly laughed as he introduced himself. Monica rolled her eyes. 
“His real name is Peter Maximoff,” You turned to her with your eyes narrowed quizzically. Before you could question her, her eyes had turned a glowing gold and jumped in front of you. You heard the gunshots and saw her body shake from the force. Just as you were about to scream you noticed her body become translucent and slowing down the bullets until they merely clicked to the pavement below. 
There was a moment of silence before Peter was suddenly beside you holding a bullet in front of your face. 
“Nice tricks.” 
“I like yours too.” Peter responded with a cheeky smile. Monica moved out of the way and you saw Hayward. Whose eyes widened once he caught your attention. Rage filled you when your eyes locked. This was the man who lied, and would’ve hurt the only family you had left. You were the one to take the first step, and once you did Hayward turned and ran as fast as he could to one of the unoccupied jeeps and peeled out of there like a bat out of hell. 
Good, he should be terrified. 
He wanted a monster. 
He was going to get one. 
Just as you were about to take off in a sprint a hand held you back, You turned and saw Steve. He pointed to the familiar,faded pink truck headed right towards the jeep until it collided t-bone style. You could see a familiar ravenette with glasses turn her ruby red lips in a sweet smile. 
Before you had a moment to appreciate the moment you heard glass shattering. You turn your head to see a white blur headed towards the sky and the familiar magenta synthezoid emerge from the undoubtedly ruined library. 
‘Vision!” You yelled as you ran to him. Feet pounding against the pavement toward the man, happy that the white version of him hadn’t torn him to pieces. 
“(Y/n),” he smiled. 
“You missed all the fun,” You teased once you reached him. “Darcy T-Boned Haybitch it was awesome.” 
“I like her.” You heard the silver blue man declare as he pointed at you. You saw Vision narrow his eyes at him. 
“Pietro is helping you?” 
“Peter, actually.” Peter explained. “I took the guns from those agents over there. Now they’re just standing around being useless.” 
“Speaking of you Peter,” You spoke up, “You said your name is Peter Maximoff right?” 
“Don’t wear it out.” He joked. 
“Are you and Wanda related?” 
“It’s a long story.” Peter said, “and there isn’t enough time to explain it all right now.” He pointed to Wanda throwing ball after ball of red magic at her. 
“No,” you silently whispered, “What is she doing?”
Vision followed your line of sight and immediately went to help his wife. However he was blocked by her creating a shield, You could see him trying to get past it but it just moved whenever he did. Your fists were clenched and wished more than ever before that you could fly. After all those experiments, why didn’t they make you fly? 
Your eyes pricked with tears as you saw the life from her slowly seep out of her with each flick of her wrist. Meanwhile Agatha looked as though she had already won. 
Maybe she already had. 
When Wanda ceased to move you felt everything crash around you. You screamed in grief, the pain of her death hitting you worse than before. You felt Steve’s arms wrap around you, holding you upright. 
You felt a tap on your shoulder, you drew back and saw Steve point to the sky. 
You never felt more relieved to see Wanda moving than in that movement. But that didn’t seem to be the case, she wasn’t just moving. A glowing red crown settled on her head, it matched her eyes. You could see Agatha was terrified, as she should be. This was Wanda, not holding back anymore. and she looked ethereal, like a goddess on some other plane. 
What she had been wearing before completely changed, her hair was down and flowing behind her in wild curls, framing her face beautifully. everything down to even her shoes, were in a deep scarlet color. It suited her well. You felt a surge of pride and awe when looking at her. You were so captivated by her that you hadn’t noticed the sad look in Steve’s eyes. 
You’ve never seen Wanda look so powerful before, and that included when she almost defeated Thanos. 
You see them gently floating down to the ground, Agatha’s body was limp and Wanda floated above her. 
Once they were on the ground, you and Vision rushed to her. You stopped just short of a few feet, giving her and Agatha some space. You were so relieved to see her that you nearly forgot, Wanda, although beautiful and incredibly gentle. Could be cruelest and without mercy to those who harmed those she loved. 
“Good girl,” You heard Agatha say sneering at her, “So, what now? Are you just going to lock me up somewhere?” 
“No,” Wanda said, “not somewhere, here.” 
A look of confusion passed over Agatha’s face. “Here?” She asked quizzically. 
Wanda hummed in agreement. Before stalking towards Agatha, the predator now turned prey. “I’ll give you the role you chose...the nosy neighbor.” 
A look of horror flashed through Agatha’s expression before muttering something under her breath. 
“No, please.” Agatha pleaded. 
“I’m sorry.” Wanda apologized. 
“No you’re not, you’re cruel.” Agatha spit back. Wanda only smiled, that’s the smile you always had chills from. The smile that looked so innocent but her eyes gave off a malevolent twinkle. 
“You...You have,” Agatha scrambled for words as Wanda neared closer to her, “you have no idea what you unleashed. You’re going to need me.” 
“If I do, I know where to find you.”
“Wait! wait wait wait!” Agatha pleaded before a red glow ran through her and changed her into someone you recognized. 
Agnes. 
“Hiya hun!” Agnes said cheerfully, You could see the pain in her eyes but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Her smile stretched further as she eyes Wanda up and down. “Say, that’s some kind of get up you’re wearing. Did I leave the oven on or is that just you hot stuff?” 
“You live here now. No one will ever bother you.” Wanda promised. 
“Okey dokey artichokee.” 
“I’ll be seeing you Agnes,” Wanda smiled before turning to you and Vision. Her nose scrunching cutely, as though she didn’t just look like a god and enslaved a wicked woman a moment ago. 
“Wanda!” you exclaim as you run into her arms, nearly toppling her over. “Are you ok?! Are you hurt?!” 
“I’m fine,” Wanda assured pulling back from you to place a hand on your stomach. “Besides I should be asking you that question shouldn’t I?” 
You hold her hand hovering over your stomach as she smiles sadly at you. 
“So it would appear that our dream home has been reduced into a fixer upper.” you hear Vision mused behind you. You decide to give the couple they’re space and return to Steve who stood there waiting for you not so far away. 
You hug him, knowing well that it may be one of the last times you can. You feel him gently wrap his arms around you. 
“She’ll set everything right.” You hear Steve say as he watches the couple in front of him. 
“Just not for us.” You whisper as you hold onto him tighter. After a moment you pull away, only holding his hand. 
“Let’s go home.” Steve says as you both start the all too short walk back to your home. 
It’s like that day all over again, however this time, there wasn’t a pit in your stomach and your feet didn’t feel like lead. You both knew that you had to say goodbye. The sky got dark quickly, the last few rays of sunshine shining by the time you reach the blue door that leads into ‘your’ home. 
When you looked inside you could already feel the tears prick behind your eyes. It looked like the apartment you shared with him in New York. Simple, but nice looking. 
Steve excused himself to the bathroom while you went into the living room. You dug through the chairs until finally you found it right where you left it. The well worn, leather bound notebook. 
“What are you reading there?” 
You turned and saw the muscular man illuminated by the lamp light. He changed into a well worn flannel, his blonde hair combed back neatly, and his long lashes making his blue eyes all the more piercing. 
“Just some memoir that a soldier boy wrote.” You mused. Clutching the notebook tightly in your hands. You watched as he walked over to you. 
“I’m happy.” 
“About what?” You questioned. 
“I’m happy that you’ve found someone.” Steve explained as he went to hold your hands. “I’m happy you didn’t close yourself off, I’m happy that you’ve found something to fight for again.” his hands gently caressed against your stomach. 
“So you know?”
“I remember the day you came into Westview.” He said, “I remember '' one of his hands left your stomach and pointed to your chest. “coming from there. the thing I remember most vividly though, was wanting to see you.”
“and now?” You asked. 
“And now, I never want to look elsewhere.” Steve smiled. Tears ran down your face. 
“I’ll never have a chance to tell you this again,” you said, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I loved you so much, so much that it hurt. However, when you left I tried so hard to push everything that reminded me of you away. Because however much I loved you, is how much it hurt me to watch you leave me when I never would’ve left you. I pushed everything that I ever had of you away, so when I found out that you left a piece of you with me. Something I couldn’t so easily throw away, part of me wanted you to have somehow known so that way it would make it easier for me to hate you.” tears started to form in those blue eyes. “but” you continued, “I don’t think I could ever hate you. I think I can hurt when I think about you, I think I want to punch your face whenever I think about you. But I think a part of me will always love you.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “would you have stayed if you knew?” You asked. 
There was a moment of silence before a reply. 
“I would’ve,” Steve said, “I would’ve done anything for you and for them had I known.” 
“Would you have resented me?”
“I don’t think I ever could.” Steve responded. Steve gently brushed his thumb over your slightly swollen stomach before continuing. “We don’t have much time left.” He said, “before I go I need to know. What am I?” 
You look into his eyes, you both knew he wasn’t the real Steve. Much like Vision isn’t the real Vision. This entire time Steve must have struggled much like Vision, on who he was if not Steve Rogers. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and took in his clean scent one last time. 
“You... are Steve Rogers, the boy from Brooklyn. With a heart much bigger than the rest of him, who didn’t ask for a fight but always fought it anyways because it was the right thing to do. You are the Steve that I fell in love with. You are the Steve that gave me hope when I was hopeless, who loved me when I thought I was unlovable, who fought for me when no one else would.”
You both looked outside, seeing the red barrier caving in, in mere moments. You’ll lose Steve again. However this time, you feel more prepared, more ready for it. 
“We don’t have much time.”
“A man out of time never does, does he.” You mused, You felt him smile beside you. You felt him move your head from the widow and to him. You carefully study his face, taking in how defined his cheeks and jawline were. How there’s a tiny scar above his brow, faded but still there. His long, thick lashes you were always envious of, covering his soft blue eyes that held a little bit of green. Some freckles dusting over his nose. Small imperfections that made Steve, Steve. 
“We’ll be fine,” You assure him. 
You close your eyes as you feel his lips on you. This kiss wasn’t like the sweet kisses from before, or a kiss to memorize the feeling of your lips together. But it was a kiss that felt more like an ending. It was bittersweet, and it felt all too short as you pulled away, the feeling of his soft and gentle kiss lingering on your lips. He was most light at that point, not dusting away or disintegrating like before, it was more like he was fluttering away. You see his eyes crinkle and give you one last smile. 
“Live a good life doll.” 
And with that he was gone, and you were beside Wanda. Right where you were a few weeks ago, like nothing ever happened at all. In front of you was the notebook you had forgotten, You knelt to the ground and picked it up. Dusting away the slight rubble that gathered on top of it. 
You looked to Wanda, whose eyes were now dry, she looked at you and grabbed your hand and led you to the car. 
“So,” You began, “which one of us is driving?”
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wrctings · 3 years
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Jean Kirschtein x reader | Friends, or is it more?
the more i watch aot, the more i love jean... his moments of self-doubt and his moved smile truly are heart-wrenching 🥺
fandom: Attack on Titan pairing: Jean Kirschtein x reader summary: Where you realise that you’re falling for your best friend, whose heart is already taken—or so you thought. Fortunately, what becomes a saddening party can also turn into an unexpected occasion to make things right. word count: 3.3k
Sometimes, belonging to the Scouts regiment came with something that, from up close, resembled a flicker of momentary joy. You had, of course, been aware of the harrowing shadow of a reputation that trudged behind the wings of liberty: danger, death and despair; the three Ds accompanying your pledge to humanity drummed their deafening beat alongside your horse's frenzied gallop whenever you took place in the formation that led you outside the walls, the wind hurling through your hair and your senses at the height of their tension, ready to signal the approach of a titan at any given minute, bracing your body for every possible threat. You had faith in commander Erwin, had faith in your comrades—if giving your life was necessary for your cause, then, you had silently promised yourself and your people, you would give it with eyes wide open and undefeated fierceness, be it in the heat of battle or any other way. The wings embroidered upon your cape represented your beliefs more intensely than any word—as long as there was a Scout left, hope would live still; blossom upon the tall grass that freely grew upon the tombs of your fallen comrades. Even the smallest victory made you believe that a change could be made—and even the smallest victory was celebrated in the battalion as a sign that bode well for the foreseeable future. It was such celebrations, though as small as the victories they marked, that made room for moments of joy the regiment could barely encounter at other times. And when those moments came, life suddenly appeared coated with a hundred colours, full of humorous idiocies and heedless amusement that stirred up in you all the youthful glee of not caring about a thing in the world but the people around you and the drink in your hand.
"You guys won't believe the position we found Bertholdt in this morning!"
Seated beside Armin, who himself flanked Eren as Mikasa had naturally settled on the other side of their childhood friend, you leaned further on the wooden table of the barrack in order to hear your brunet friend more distinctly, his excited voice reviving the conversation at once. Drawn by a cheerful and carefree sort of curiosity, which was well fueled by the general bright mood, finding out about Bertholdt's daily sleeping position suddenly appeared like the most fascinating event one could discuss, especially when followed by the boys' weather previsions based on their comrade's often strange and tangled up poses. You exchanged an amused look with Mikasa, and though your friend's features remained almost as impassive as usual, the vivid twinkle you caught through the dark shine of her eyes mirrored your cheery behaviour; Armin's face, on the other hand, wore an expressive smile, the blond boy remembering vividly the description of Bertholdt that Eren began recounting.
But even as you laughed at the image of Bertholdt's knees somehow managing to stay bent as he slept on his stomach, the upper part of his legs outstretched toward the sky in an unusual—to say the least—position, your gaze went on sweeping the room, in search of the one person you couldn't wait to chat with again, though you also got along really well with Armin, Mikasa and Eren. The only problem was, said person was not that fond of the self-righteous brunet ball of energy sat at your table, so you were not surprised to find him in Conny and Sasha's company instead, talking animatedly. You had already had the opportunity to chat with Jean earlier that evening, the two of you having grown so close to each other that it would've been impossible for you not to cross paths tonight, but you wondered whether you would drift toward each other again before the makeshift party came to an end; Captain Levi had been surprisingly unbothered by your shy request to celebrate today's mission's success, accepting it on the sole condition that only soft drinks were to be consumed—Armin suspected that Commander Erwin was responsible for granting the new recruits' wishes, as they had after all already endured quite a lot during the expedition to retrieve Eren from Annie.
"We better watch out for that sleeping position of Bertholdt's, maybe it means good luck," Armin observed lightheartedly, taking a sip from his drink.
"You should keep a notebook with all of them, and maybe you'll crack the code someday," you added with a chuckle, the three of you glancing at Bertholdt.
Having your 104th comrades with you in the Scouts regiment really did bring you a lot of comfort to help you navigate these new uncharted waters, though it also made it acutely unbearable to imagine that some of them might not make it back next time; Marco served as your first and most painful lesson that even those dearest to you were never safe. It was after the freckled boy's death that you and Jean had truly bonded, brought together by the devastating loss of your kindhearted friend. You had become each other's rocks since then—checking up on each other after training sessions and expeditions, playful teasing and calling each other all sorts of funny nicknames rooted into the core of your friendship, giving it all its strength. And it was when you had been injured during the 57th expedition and Jean had almost hysterically ran up to you afterwards, cursing with no restraint and holding your arm so tightly it hurt when he helped you limp toward the medical wing, that you had been hit for the first time, though still shaken from slaying a titan and the bloody cut burning your leg, by how grateful you were to have made it out alive, to have Jean by your side. It was then that you had realised that there was no one else you would rather be with than him—it was something more than anything you've ever felt before, as your timidly pounding heart had been reminding you ever since.  
But another thing unavoidable when being friends with Jean, of course, was the bickering between your comrade and Eren—and this evening was no different from any other week. A few minutes later, as you engaged in a pleasant conversation with Armin, your attention was drawn by the thunderous eruption of voices that suddenly shook the walls of the barrack, making many pairs of surprised eyes turn toward the belligerent protagonists of the argument. It just had to be Eren and Jean, hadn't it? Like the rest of your comrades, you couldn't possibly guess where the spark that ignited this new inferno came from, but with these two, a valid reason often wasn't needed; to the greatest despair of the 104th, both boys possessed magic powers to summon reasons to fight out of thin air. At the present moment, both Eren and Jean were actively yelling at each other, shooting names and accusations back and forth.
However, the lack of rational incidents to cause such a scene didn't mean that there was no deeper reason for Jean's outbursts, just like Eren's counter-attacks originated from his legendary stubbornness already well-known to his fellow comrades. You had been suspecting for a long time that Jean mainly proclaimed his hatred towards Eren because of Mikasa. Before the 57th expedition, when both of you were in a playful and mischievous mood, you would even friendlily tease Jean about his soft spot for the dark haired young woman, which he hadn't hidden very well ever since Mikasa and he met for the first time. It was quite unfortunately, really, that your heart had finally chosen Jean, of all people, to fall for—as if you weren't well aware of how much he admired and liked Mikasa! And this mascarade surely had to have been orchestrated to get her attention, just like many other failed schemes of Jean's, as Mikasa barely seemed interested in anyone but Eren, Armin, sometimes Sasha, and you.
"There he goes again..." You muttered downheartedly, sparing a glance at your best friend.
"It's Eren and Jean, after all..." Armin responded with a sorry smile, squirming on the bench to get further away from Eren, who was now up on his feet and facing Jean with balled up fists. Mikasa watched the two boys through squinted eyes, at the ready to jump and knock over Jean if needed—at least, your friend's plan to get her attention had succeeded.
"I know how this is going to end," you told Armin under your breath, averting your gaze from the fighters. "You know what, I think it's right about time for me to head off. I don't want to witness Captain Levi tearing their heads off for wrecking havoc in here."
"Really? Don't you want to stay a little longer? I'm sure it won't come to this!"
"I don't even want to know. Goodnight, Armin, thank you for the nice chat," you excused yourself, fleeing from the barrack swift as a cat, only the passage of a furtive ray of light on the floor signifying that the door to the room had been opened as quickly as it was closed.
You knew better than to cling onto something you could not reach, so why endure the spectacle of such a foolish play?
*
Outside, nighttime had descended upon the camp with its soothing quietness. Nothing in sight but the warm flutter of torches fixed upon the barracks; nothing ringing in your ears but the chirping melody of a cricket's song, its echo delicately carried away by the evening wind. No ecstatic shouting, no blaring laughter. Nothing but a lone constellation half-veiled by the grey trail of clouds that unhurriedly floated upon the dark depths of the sky. No Jean, no Eren. You took a lungful of fresh air before a long sigh lifted off your chest—if only things could go back to the way they had been. Back when Jean was nothing but a fun and (sweetly) annoying horse-faced boy to be around, and no cause for heartache.
You took some more steps ahead, the muffled sounds you could still hear from inside dying out as you walked further away. Although you had told Armin that your time to go had come, you didn't feel like getting back to bed right now; actually, you didn't feel like anything but escaping for a little while.
At last, you decided to retrace your steps, taking a seat on the ground beside the barrack you had abandoned, your back pressed against its wooden surface. On the other side, the cacophony hadn't ceased, only muffled by the wall that separated you from the inside mayhem. Had Jean and Eren opted for a fistfight denouement by now? Would Mikasa intervene?
But before you had enough time to explore the many scenarios your imagination could sketch out, the door beside which you had settled opened abruptly, a wide stream of light flooding the ground at once. In the blink of an eye, a visibly disconcerted figure appeared on the threshold, freezing as they took a look around before rapidly bifurcating to the side in order to follow one of the torchlit paths...
"Jean?"
"Y/n?! What are you doing here?" Jean rushed toward you as soon as he noticed your silhouette from behind the shadows, discovering your hiding-place. "I didn't even see you leave..."
"I'm sorry, I was starting to feel tired." Touched by the fact that Jean had left the room to look for you, you attempted to give him a plausible excuse.
"C'mon, you can get through a day of training, but you can't get through one of the only party nights we're lucky enough to have?" Jean taunted, taking a seat next to you. "What's the matter?" he gently elbowed you, throwing his neck back so he could press his head against the wall behind. "Just when I was about to defeat Eren..."
"Defeat Eren, really? Statistically, it's more likely for Captain Levi to smile than for us to see that happen," you laughed tiredly, trying not to think about how Jean would probably soon get back to Mikasa and the others.
"Yeah, yeah, tease me all you want, it'll happen. Someday this idiot will get his ass handed to him."
Closing your eyes, you only had it in you to maintain the forced smile painted over your lips while fighting back the rush of stinging tears that suddenly overwhelmed you. Why did Jean had to come and check up on you now of all times, right when you were more than ever convinced that you were starting to fall for him, and it couldn't be clearer that his every move longed for someone else?
"You know, I was going to get him, but Mikasa can get scary..." It was as if he could decipher the riddles of your mind, unaware of the way your heart convulsed. "I wouldn't want to cross her. Why would she hang out with this idi—"
"Look, Jean, if you've come here to rant about this, then you can leave," you ended up snapping, biting back more acre words . "I'm tired, okay? Just get back to the fun inside."
"You... You don't feel like talking?" Jean's voice softened from incomprehension, trying to read your tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was that bad. Hey, you really don't want to talk?"
You shook your head in response, scolding your own self for such pathetic behaviour. Jean couldn't possibly know about your suppressed feelings, so your attitude must indeed appear more than confusing, especially since you were so used to confiding in each other and cheering each other up, for the past weeks more than ever. In the wake of Icarus's ascend towards the sun, untethered and naive, your wings of wax were melting... But who could've predicted, as much as a month earlier, that the loveable idiot by your side would doom you to downfall?  
"Okay... Well...," the young man ran a distracted hand through his hair, frowning as his jaw clenched. "Then I'll talk. You know, I had an idea for tonight," he began after collecting his thoughts, breaking through the hesitant seconds that had temporarily numbed his tongue. "It was our first successful expedition after that near-death experience after all, so I thought I'd better make the most of it and make tonight's celebration useful. Who knows when we'll get another one. Maybe you're right and it's actually more likely to see Captain Levi smile than to get another one of these again soon." Jean's speech ran freely now, his torrent of sentences—for the moment still not making clear sense as to where they were headed to—submerging you in the familiar flow of his voice. As of late, your greatest fear had become to miss its distress call in the ranging mist of a battle, to watch Jean's body be torn to shreds as you could only scream until everything else vanished... "So I thought I'd be brave, for once." He took a deep breath in, fingers nervously wrapped around the back of his own neck. "There's this person I like."
There it was. Somehow, you knew that it would be coming—after the stunt he pulled earlier with Eren...
"They're much braver than I am, but they probably know that already," Jean went on, chuckling self-depreciatingly—he knew he could poke at himself in your company without being ashamed of disclosing his flaws. "They wouldn't hesitate to come and rescue me, even if I were grabbed by a titan. And they're really beautiful, too—"
"Look, Jean, if you've come to talk about Mikasa, just save it," you could only murmur. "Pl—"
"And, quite surprisingly, they're also a dumbass!" Jean didn't let you finish either, shifting his head so he could see your face better. "But that's something both of us have in common." Taken aback by such a strange confession, you opened your eyes to take an intrigued look at Jean while hoping that he wouldn't notice the tears you had at last blinked away. You met his gaze head-on, even among the shadows that coiled over his face.  "Because they think that I still have a thing for a girl I liked for two weeks, while I've been talking about them all along."
"What—"
"You know, you're the one who makes being called "horse-face" the funniest," Jean cracked an unsure smile at you, fiddling with his hands. "Alright, it's the bravest I'll ever be, so time to crawl in a hole and die now," he immediately added more anxiously, looking like the unexpected nature of his confession had stricken him for the first time.
"Wait, Jean, no!" It was as if, for the first time in a span of unending minutes, you could breathe again. "Wait, is this... Is this for real?" You asked in what came out almost a whisper, fearing, in this instant where your hopes balanced on the edge of a precipice of churning doubt and elation, that this was a joke you would not be able to forgive. Jean was better than this, but what if?—the thought drilled into your heart.
"Well... Yes. I'm sorry if I've made things awkward, it's Armin who told you might like me too and—"
"Hey, hey," your hand found its way to Jean's arm in a comforting touch, preventing him from leaving as he made a move to flee after blurting out an apology. Judging by your frantic heartbeat, there was no way you could be the calmer person in this situation—and yet, Jean somehow managed to look even more distressed than you at the moment. "I do like you." It was your turn to get embarrassed, which your flushed cheeks openly betrayed, illuminated by the nearby torch's flitting flame. "But Mikasa...?"
"Y/n, I haven't liked Mikasa for longer than a few weeks. I mean, yes, she's beautiful and strong, but so are you. And you're so much more than that. You're so fun to be around, I haven't laughed so hard with anyone but you. Unlike me, you're not scared to be brave and kind, but with you, I don't need to think which face I need to put on, because I know we don't have to pretend to be someone we're not when we're around each other. And when you got injured... I couldn't stand the thought of losing you. I made myself a promise then that I would tell you, and tonight seemed like the right time. I've been talking to Armin after the expedition and I think he kind of guessed that I liked you, and that you liked me too—I don't even know how or why, but he told me he thought you did. That's not exactly how I thought it'd go but... Trying to get your attention by getting in a fight with Eren wasn't that good of a plan, I guess."
"So that's what it was...! You really are an idiot, Jean Kirschtein," you declared vivaciously, but the moved smile that brightened your face spoke louder than the fond insults Jean and you would fire at each other. "We need to watch out for Armin, he will uncover everyone's secrets, at this rate..." You joked before regaining a more serious attitude, your emotions truly swayed by your friend's avowal. "The expedition changed everything for me too. I realised that I didn't want to go without you. No, I realised that I didn't want to go at all—I wanted to stay. With you."
"Pff, get in line," Jean grinned in spite of the emotional look on his face, sighing in relief. "I've been liking you for months."
"Seriously?"
"Absolutely. Do you think I go out of my way to check up on everyone after a battle or that everyone's mom gets the privilege of being the centre of my skilfully crafted jokes?"
"Shut up," you laughed wholeheartedly, your shoulder against Jean's. "Your mom's a hoe."
"Very clever," he teased you in return, face glowing from a joy even more vivd than the fiery sparks that chased the night's spectres away. “I bang yours every night.”
You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes—mom jokes were a must in your goofy friendship. A friendship that, with a bit of unpredicted luck, was on the verge of becoming something more.
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