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nami-moittli · 2 months

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Have you ever wondered how Digimon Frontier might have gone if the Spirits of Steel, Wood, and Earth had been bequeathed to Ophanimon, the Spirits of Water and Darkness had been bequeathed to Seraphimon, the Spirits of Flame, Light, Ice, Wind, and Thunder had been bequeathed to Cherubimon, and the protagonists had been Katsuharu, Teppei, Chiaki, Teruo, and Koichi (with Koji joining later)? Mind if I send each episode to your inbox so you can say how you think they'd go in that scenario?

Hmm, so basically a swap AU? I can’t say that I’ve ever found myself thinking about that idea before but it could be fun!

First off, who will be who? Kouichi and Kouji obviously stay the same, and it’s pretty obvious that Chiaki would have the water spirits, but after that it gets a bit tricky, so I’ll just say Katsuharu=Steel spirits, Teppei=ground spirits and Teruo=wood spirits. For simplicity’s sake I’ll say that they have the same spirits as shown in the show, even though they’d probably have purified versions of them in an actual AU, just like Kouichi in canon. This does mean that Kouji has evil versions of his Spirits, though I don’t really feel like creating new digimon for this AU.

Now, another question, would their backstories be the same as in canon (with some modifications to make them more protagonist-y, ofc)? As in, Katsuharu and Teppei being bullies to Tommy (I don’t believe the other two have much going for them, really, tho I’d probably have to rewatch the episode these four appear in to get their characters better) Ofc, since this is a swap AU, the twins would obviously swap understandings of one another.

Because the Kou twins have the most going for them, here’s what I’m thinking: very similar to canon, only Kouichi’s grandmother isn’t able to tell Kouichi about Kouji. She probably starts, but before she can finish she gets into a coughing fit, and Kouichi is whisked out of her hospital room, unable to know what his grandmother wanted to tell him. He shuts into himself even more. He’s not going to be as sharp as Kouji is, though I can imagine he has his moments, but he’s more passive about the whole thing.

Kouji on the other hand, would still be caught up in his “dead” mother that he didn’t get to meet and still dislikes his stepmother as a result. Though, just because of those grievances it’s not like he hates his family or anything, just kinda keeps them at arms distance emotion wise. That is, until one particularly bad fight with his dad that leaves his stepmom crying. Kouji decides he finally wants to do something and snoops through everything he can to find some more evidence of his biological mom. That’s when he finds… something. Divorce papers, pictures of him and Kouichi as newborns, anything really, it just has to be proof that his mom is alive. And do he goes out to find her. I imagine that Kouji is a bit more upfront about the whole thing, so when he finds his mom’s address he plans to actually knock on the door, but before he can, he sees Kouichi and his mom through a window. This can also be a moment where he finds out about Kouichi if he didn’t know before. But he sees them huddled together, crying (as this probably takes place right after their grandma dies) and decides that he can’t open the door right now.

Both brothers are still very closed off, it’s just that Kouichi quietly retreated inside his room, and Kouji slammed the door shut.

Kouichi gets Ophanimon’s message, and something deep within him tells him that he’ll find the answer to what his grandma wanted to tell him if he followed it. Kouji didn’t get the message and followed his brother close behind. Then he broke his neck on a flight of stairs. Whoopsies?

Compared to divorce victims Kou1 and Kou2, we know much, much, much less about the other four. So this probably won’t be as long as those two’s sections.

Katsuharu and Teppei, like I mentioned before used to bully Tommy. That could be a good starting off point for these two to get some character development!

Since they already know each other, they’d be really close and probably look down on Chiaki and Teruo a bit, trying to ditch them or something. But with safety in numbers and the fact that they aren’t evil and don’t want the others to die, they’d stay grouped up, with some friction of course. By the time everyone got their spirits they’d just gotten used to having each other around, and again, safety in numbers.

For Chiaki, I like to think of her as a trans girl, because yay representation, and also it makes for a fun dynamic (and parallel to Zoe, who’s ostracized for being a foreigner and not really understanding Japanese social cues, from what I remember, and Chiaki would be ostracized for being trans, but that’s for a different thing lol)

She’d probably LOVE being Ranamon/possibly a purified water spirit because of that, though she also likes that the others don’t know that she was born a boy. Again, it’s been AWHILE since I’ve watched the episode these guys appear in, so they’re basically just OCs atp, so I probably have whatever canon personality traits they have wrong. But I think it could be fun if she feels as though she’s “hiding” something from the others for not telling them, but she also doesn’t want them to know in fear of them treating her differently, so it ends up with her being really quiet most of the time.

When she’s Ranamon though, she comes out of her shell more and is way more confident. She likes that people treat her better based on her looks, like canon Ranamon, and will sometimes use that to her advantage. Her character arc would be about opening up and being herself as “Chiaki” and not letting her newfound vanity, for lack of a better term, get the better of her and learning to be more humble as “Ranamon”

Now for Teruo… I’ve got nothing. The main episode I remember for Arbormon/Petaldramon was the burger one, and I think that Arbormon had like… a weird sense of humor or something? It’s been awhile since I watched the show, so I don’t remember it all.

So basing Teruo off what little I can remember, maybe he’s like JP? Or maybe he’ll be a little like Percy from Epithet Erased, where he does insane shit in his actions but will do them completely straight.

Idk where his character arc goes or even what it should be, but I do think it would be funny if Kouichi HATED him. Because in canon, it’s Duskmon who ends up taking out Arbormon, so it’d be funny to me if Kouichi would outwardly laugh at Teruo’s antics only to be cringing on the inside like, what the fuck ic wrong with this bitch?

Okay, okay, in canon, Kouichi is traumatized by being corrupted and almost killing his brother. Add that with Kouichi just being kinda soft spoken in general, if you will, he’s not going to be that mean. But in this AU, everyone’s characters are somewhat based off antagonists, therefore Kouichi’s arc is not only about finding his brother and what his grandma wanted to tell him, but also gaining enough confidence to call Teruo a bitch on screen 👆

(They would eventually become friends, but as I like to think of it, the OG cast would help you hide a body, these kids would help you MAKE one, okay?)

That’s, about it I think? Sorry that this took so long to get to, I started working on it, then I forgot about it and only finally remembered to finish it today 😭 so, sorry again on that. This was fun though, thanks!

Also, about the episode thing, probably not, sorry. Since I have no clue on how to do Teruo and I fear I’d just leave it to rot in my inbox and/or drafts, I’m good.

#digimon #digimon digital monsters #digimon frontier

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hrtbreakanniversary · 3 years

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HONESTY; druig [three]

pairing: mafia!druig x nurse!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: i can't write action scenes for shit, violence, nightmares, dirty men, blood, fighting, kidnapping (?), brief moment of SEXUAL ASSAULT

a/n: so sorry for that really long wait. finals are officially over and I no longer need to stress over that. ty for your patience and enjoy. I consider this more as a stepping point/filler of the story.

This date was tolerable.

Starting off with the fact that Kro was easy on the eyes. He had those dark circles underneath his eyes like a Tim Burton character and his height was to brag for.

But that didn't blind her from the fact that everyone was wearing an outfit that costed more than the meal she was having. And the meal was barely a meal.

It didn't help that the man across her was awfully intimidating, hardly exchanging words between each other except for small talk. She was even able to carry out a fuller conversation with their waiter who was a large, dark male named Phastos. She learned his name in the case that the front asked because he saved her from falling asleep on top of the meal that could barely be called one.

But Kro was sweet. He pulled out for the chair for her and asked her about her day. Even let her rant about how crappy of a coworker she has, not putting his name in her mouth because she’s better than that, and stole her credit. He didn't poke fun at her when he realized she knew nothing about the type of meal they were eating and instead helped her out.

She even learned about how he just recieved a spot as a CEO at his company. Which is why she figured they were even able to get a spot in a place like this.

Also made the assumption that he was one of those bosses that never talked to his workers either because he could barely talk to her either. That didn't mean she didn't find him all that bad. He was probably the type of person that would open up after a while. Maybe a couple more dates and they'll be okay. IF there would be a couple more dates.

But there was an eerie feeling that was felt around him that she couldn't get passed. So seeing her apartment in her view made her a little more happier than it should've. But she'd much rather be under her sheets, rewatching season 1 of Ted Lasso.

"This is me." Motioning towards the building at the end of the street.

Kro stood at least a foot taller than she did, eyeing the large rural building. Y/N rolled side to side on her heal as he seemed more interested in the architecture of the place. “It seems to be getting late and we should end the night. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you around.” She had already walked two steps when his voice rang through the air.

“I’m not a idiot, I know how much of a bore tonight must’ve been for you.”

“That obvious?” The cold air rushed by just in time to blame the red cheeks on that rather than her embarrassment. Now she felt bad. It's one thing to have a bad time. It's another to have the other know. Much work needed on her facial emotions. "I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I've just never done these type of things so I was a bit out of it."

A dick response was expected from Kro but he did the complete opposite. Instead, he laughed! The white of his teeth shined against the light of the moon, his finger returning to rub against his bottom lip again.

"I mean we still have the rest of the night ahead of us, it doesn't have to end here."

"Say, how much can you drink?"

A bottle of red champagne seemed to have done the job of the lighting up the mood. Y/N herself had one too many drinks and was beginning to feel a bit woozy. The fairy lights in her house only becoming mere specks of dust in her eyes.

Kro took a sip of the sparkling white liquid, chuckling at the dry joke that slipped from her lips about hoppy frogs. Y/N continued to rake her mind for more and more jokes she knew about frogs, slowing down when she felt his heavy stare on her.

Unable to contain the blush on her cheeks, she played dumb” Is there something on my face?”

Kro smirked, his body moving closer towards hers, "You're one of the prettiest girls I've ever seen."

“Oh please.” She took a gulp of the wine as she rolled her eyes playfully. In such an alluring pace, she set her hand onto his broad shoulder. “How many girls have you said that to?”

"Just you."

"Oh yeah?"

He hummed but Y/N shook her head," I don't believe that."

Whilst she took another gulp from her wine, she hadn't noticed how close Kro had scooted towards her until she felt what was like sandpaper against her lips. It just felt like lips touching rather than an actual kiss as he wasn't pushing either. She hadn't even had the time to react to the kiss before Kro had pulled away. "Believe me now?" He spoke in a sensuous tone. She would believe him if the kiss didn't suck ass.

Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Quickly giving him a quick peck to refrain herself from answering his question because anything that come out would just be the painful truth.

Swiftly shifting so she could place her glass onto the counter, she brought her hand up to his shoulder to squeeze it. It seemed like Kro had gotten the wrong message from her doing so because he leaned in for third kiss but she was already quick enough to turn her head. "It's getting kind of late, don't you think?" Way to be smooth about it.

The way his smile fell from her face made her feel so bad. Lie through it, woman. "I just have a shift tomorrow and want to get some rest." She stood up too quickly, almost feeling lightheaded. But she didn't want to see his reaction, to see his disappointment. The cups on the table interested the girl instead, immediately picking them to start "cleaning".

"You're welcome to use my bathroom if you need to before you go. Don't mind Callie, she'd hear it from me if she bothers you again."

This was another story to tell Annie. Knew that redhead would get a kick out of hearing about yet another gossipable event of her failing life.

"I'll see you around." He voiced from below her," Just hope that bloke Trevor doesn't bother you much tomorrow then."

She almost dropped the glasses from her hands when he finished his sentence. Any other day, she'd agree. Any other day, she wouldn't be phased. Any other day, she would go on and on about that but not today.

Because there's one thing she knew.

Trevor's name was never mentioned.

So how the hell did he know? It's not like you could search up males that work at her hospital. It's not she knew this stranger long enough for him to know the names of her co-workers.

It took a sudden rush of wind slipping in through her windows to wake her up. Oh god, he already knew. He knew that she knew. She doesn't know what she knows but she knows he isn't someone safe.

Her first instinct was to run towards the door but his arm quickly wrapped around her waist to pull her back, breath taken away." Now where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

A grunt spilled form Kro's lips as Y/N elbowed him in the stomach. Taking his hunched over figure as a cue to run from him. The kitchen was closer to them as she stormed past the room.

What was she suppose to do? No prior knowledge on self defense. She never learned to hurt someone, she only knew how to repair. So deep in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard the door open again. "Y/N, I really did enjoy our date today." His slow and low voice no longer a soothing tone but chilling. A glare of knife flashed at her eyes, her hand inching slowly towards the handle. "It's a shame that we have to cut this night short."

The only sounds between them was the whimpers of Callie from the other side of the door who had just now woken up from the commotion.

" Although, I really do wish we met under different circumstances." It was like her body had turned to stone. Stiffening when she felt his presence right behind her, "What is called right person, wrong time?"

He had grabbed the knife before she could but she took advantage of the open space to run to the other side of the counter.

"Oh you smart little girl." He pointed the sharp object at her. "So smart that you didn't mind your own business. You should've left him to die."

"What are you even talking about?" She cursed herself for even speaking. But confusion was an understatement. Kro simply laughed at her response, shaking his head at her cluelessness," Baby, you don't know who you're messing with..." His eyes trailed up and down her body, Y/N wanting to cover herself with her arms but that would leave her completely vulnerable. Surveying what was in close grabs to her that could be potential weapon? "Come here, you little brat." Jumping forward, he swung the knife causing Y/N to duck before grabbing the unopened bottle of rose wine. She swung, letting it go at the last second, not caring where it landed.

A whimper could be heard from the opening of the door and she wished that Callie would just go. She mentally told the dog to go, she just hoped the dog would go

Kro let out a loud groan as the bottle had barely missed him, the glass hitting him square on the head. Teeth seething," You've done it now, bitch." He took one step forward but a sharp pain ran through his leg. Callie's teeth sinking deep. The adrenaline ran through her veins, like there was a hammer banging repeatedly on her head. Kro was able to kick the dog off of him, his face full of anger as he charged towards Y/N again but the girl was already running up the stairs. Y/N was at the top when she heard a loud yell, signaling that Callie lunged onto Kro.

Heaving breaths, she ran into the first empty room and shoved the door shut behind her. Whimpers and growls filled the house as slams echoed throughout the house. Tears brimmed the edge of her eyes, her fingers quickly plugging out the sound. It took a minute for the house to get silent again but realization sunk in. A sob broke from her lips but she knew that he was getting closer and closer to her as the wood of her stairs creaked under his feet. Hands automatically covering her mouth in fear she gave her away her hiding spot.

"I don't think Trevor could pester or push you around anymore anyways. " His slow and low voice no longer a soothing tone but chilling. "Seeing as he's dead. I slit his throat." His laugh so full of malice," Don't you want to thank me? That pesky little bug is off your back now."

Running his hand along the cold metal of the stairwell, "You know, YN, I wasn't going to hurt you. No, I thought you were just a regular girl and that we were going on a ordinary date. But you bragged. You bragged about being better and look where that's got you." Grunts of struggle as he climbed up the last step," Maybe Trevor was right. Putting woman in a man's place makes them think they're better than everybody."

Breath held as the light from the hallway that peeked in through the cracks was now split into two. The 1 dimensional room she was stuck in getting smaller, her back hitting the wall.

You'll never amount to anything.

The room now a pitch black.

Worthless piece of shit.

Wood pieces flew.

You are your mother's daughter.

Her lungs gasped for air as his glove clad slender fingers wrapped around her neck.

"Why don't I have my fun with you, yeah? Before I slit your pretty throat." His right hand remained on her neck as he squeezed tighter against the flesh, his hand moving down the zipper of his pants. Y/N sunk her fingers in his arm, using her legs to kick at his legs. "Get off me." She wheezed out. In response, Kro threw her across to her bed. Whilst the sheets would usually give her comfort, she felt like she was drowning in the cotton material.

Crawling like a toddler, tears streaming down her face. She struggled to make to the edge before it felt as if she was being scalped. Kro grabbed a handful of her hair, his goal of putting onto her back. “ Stop making this hard for yourself, sweetie. The less you budge, the faster this goes.” Both of his hands placed over his neck. The food from tonight coming up her throat, feeling him grind against the lower part of her body.

Nails digging into flesh of his arm, she pushed harder but he only tightened his grip.

Kro's facial features transformed into somebody so familiar, her body stiffening as her eyes grew wild. Gasps of air following as the mouth of the man she knew so well sneered down at her.

"You're my little girl. You understand me, hmm? I own you, kid."

“Papa please.” Whimpering, her hands faltering as her grip loosened and the feeling between her legs growing numb. No air to scream for help. Helpless.

Several clashes and clinks were heard from downstairs but the factor skim through her head as she could feel her eyes rolling back, the world around her turning black.

Jolting up from the cold cloth that touched her skin, she gasped for the needed air and rose her hand to touch her sore throat. But the movement was halted by force. Looking down, a brown rope was attached to her wrists. Limiting the movement of her arms from the wood of the bed to the edge of the mattress.

She didn't need to look around to see that she wasn't even in her own room. The room painted a dull grey, one curtain draped window in the middle of it all. Stuffed animals filled the shelfs and random furniture and boxes were placed around the room. Almost like a storage room.

What happened?

The tightening feeling in the chest felt as if a hand was reaching in there and squeezing it. Why wasn't she dead? Why hasn't Kro killed her? Where has Kro taken her? She kept pulling and pulling at the ropes, feeling the burn imprint a mark on his wrist.

A soft cough stopped her movements. Through the fallen pieces of hair of her conveniently tied up hair, she could barely see the red headed little girl.

The red head from the hospital grasped the damp towel in her hand, worry clear on her face. Was it for Y/N or was it for herself? For the the little girl looked shaken as if she wasn't expecting something to happen. It was fair to believe that Y/N wasn't suppose to be awake so soon so she was even more suspicious of this situation. What? Did they drug her and hoped she wouldn't wake up?

So she tugged again and again on the rope, hoping for it to work like the movies where the material would just snap. So concentrated on the task at hand that the only being that was in the room other than her left urgently.

Not more than a minute, Sprite returned but instead with a women and two men who stood on either side of her. It was Sersi and the two men who seemed oddly familiar.

Bile ran up her throat, threatening to push out when she realized just who they were.

The men from outside the apartment building. The ones that Callie was oddly very cautious about. Y/N knew she should've listened. Trusted her dog's insight.

Jeezus, is Callie even alive right?

Just as importantly, have they been watching her this whole time? Following her?

She could feel the blood draining from her body as if she couldn't even more colder than she was right now, her body shaking in fevers. Did Kro not kill her? Did he bring her to wherever he hide his victims to continue his torture on her?

"Y/N." Sersi spoke first but Y/N shook her head, squishing back and forth on the hard mattress. The restraints feeling tighter the more she resisted them. Sersi sighed before taking a step closer with her two men and Sprite staying behind," Y/N, listen to me."

"Please let me go. I swear I don't know anything." Her voice cracking out with each syllable, a result of the tight hold that Kro had on her throat from earlier that night. Was that earlier that night, she thought, she didn't know how long she's been out nor how long she's been down here.

Sersi sighed and placed her warm hand against Y/N's stiff shoulder, halting her movements." Y/N, you are safe. Kro is not here and he will not find you here." Her accent dripping from each word, the tone comforting the trembling girl, "Y/N, as long as you are here, you will not be harmed" She repeated again. Slower this time as if she was talking to somebody who was younger and didn't understand the words she was using. Staring at the unchanging facial expressions that were frozen on the girl's face as if she was hoping to receive a nod of understanding.

But all Y/N could think about is what the hell did she get herself into?

Druig leaned against the counter, humming to the tune that played in the lobby. Hissing when he pushed the alcohol filled cotton swab against the open wounds imprinted on his knuckles.

A cough earned his attention, Sersi with her arms crossed against in her chest. Unclear how she felt? Was she disappointed? Was she pleased because for once, Druig lifted his finger for another person?

"You shouldn't have done that."

So she was disappointed.

"What? Beat the crap out of that asshole?" Druig scoffed," You're right. Should've killed him."

Sersi shook her head in disbelief," I told you to get the key and bring it to Kingo and Gilgamesh. They would deal for the rest if something were to go wrong. And what did you do? You didn't alert anyone and went around-"

"I knew that man was Kro. Why wait for ultimate worse to happen to make a move? And remember that that when I walked in there-" He cut himself, his body shivering in disgust at the sight he saw. The red that clouded his vision. The red that dripped from that every crevices of the taller male's face. His memory filled with the girl laid frozen on the bed as if she were paralyzed.

"And because of that, Kro had gotten away. You had no backup whatsoever. You were one step closer from getting out of this and now you're three steps back. Not because of anybody but yourself."

Druig stayed silent, his jaw locked as he stared ahead.

"She's your responsibility now."

taglist: @artaxerxesthegreat @ponyboys-sunsets @notalxx @bittergomez @angelcvsmic @adastra-pertenebris 5lutty5arah strawb3rrydr3ss @sapphireplums

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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years

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you can't change the past

pairing: steve rogers x wilson!reader, bucky barnes x wilson!reader

warnings: angst, language, TW mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts and abortion

word count: 5.1k

a/n: i rewatched endgame and remembered how much steve leaving annoyed the shit out of me so there. also i 100% took that ripple quote from x-men so yeah, enjoy:)

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You’re leaning on a tree next to your brother as you wait for Banner to finish calibrating the time machine. In the distance, you see Steve hugging Bucky before making his way towards you. You stand up as Steve gets to your level. He smiles softly before looking towards Sam,

“Hey, can you give us a second, please?”

Sam nods before walking towards Bucky and striking up a conversation with him. You smile up at Steve before stroking his cheek and asking,

“What’s up?”

Steve’s eyes flutter close as he leans into your palm before saying, barely above a whisper,

“I’m not coming back, sweetheart.”

Your hand falls from Steve’s face as a frown etches itself onto your face.

“What?”

Steve slowly opens his eyes, looking into yours, before replying,

“When Tony and I went to 1970 for the Tesseract and the Pym particles, I saw Peggy… I thought I had moved on but… We’re meant to be together.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat as you take a step back from Steve, hurt clear on your face.

“I thought we were?”, you ask, voice cracking at the end.

“So did I… But when I saw her again, it just felt like the universe was giving me a second chance and I can’t not take it.”

As tears start to fall down your face, the air around suddenly feels freezing as a shiver shakes your body. You look towards the ground, trying to find something, anything to say. You’re not sure how long you stay there but you’re pulled back to reality when Banner tells Steve that the machine is ready.

“Y/N… Please, say something.”

Your eyes stay fixated on the ground beneath your feet, “What does Bucky think about this?”

You hear Steve’s breath stop shortly before he exhales slowly, “I didn’t tell him.”

You scoff before shaking your head slowly and kicking a pebble.

“You know, Steve, there’s a theory in quantum physics that time is immutable. It’s like a river: you can throw a pebble in and create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do the river just keeps flowing in the same direction.”

You look up at Steve, before finishing, “You can’t change the past, Steve. But thank you for making your feelings about me crystal clear.”

You turn around, practically running back to your car, driving back to the tower.

Through your tears and sobs, you don’t hear that someone has followed you back and has entered your room. A hand softly touches your back, startling you, as you turn around rapidly, whispering, hopeful, “Steve?”

“Sorry, doll. It’s just me…”, you hear Bucky’s soft voice answer.

You feel your sobs wracking through your body even harder than before as Bucky climbs into your bed, taking you into his arms. You cry into his chest, listening to his heartbeat until you eventually hear his breathing become ragged.

Through your teary vision, you look up at Bucky, now also crying, as he looks down at you,

“He left me too, you know.”

You wrap your arms around Bucky, trying to comfort him while also letting yourself cry.

As soon as Steve had returned all of the stones to their respective times and places, he had made a beeline for Peggy’s house. He had made sure to look up all the information he needed beforehand, so he didn’t have to wait a second before making his way to her.

Walking up to her front door, a bouquet of flowers in hand, he could feel the slightly chilly fall Washington air nipping at his cheeks with the sun setting in the distance.

Knocking on the door, Steve adjusts his tie, feeling the anticipation rise in his throat. After what seems like forever, the door to the Carter residence opens, Peggy herself standing on the threshold.

She is visibly shaken as her eyes widen immeasurably before she whispers, “Steve?”

Steve smiles back at her, replying, “Hey Peggy… I’m back.”

Peggy glances over her shoulder before pushing Steve farther away from the house, closing the door behind her. She crosses her arms over her chest before looking up at Steve,

“Steve, what are you doing here?”

Steve’s smile falters before stutters, “What do you mean? I came back… For you.”

Peggy shakes her head softly before answering, “Steve… I’m married. To a man I love. And I’m pregnant.”

Steve looks down at her and for the first time, he notices her inflated belly. She was not very far from giving birth.

“But, what about us?”

Peggy frowns, “Steve, we missed our chance… Gabe and I are happy.”

Steve lets his arms fall to his side, the bouquet of flowers now upside down, petals flying away in the wind. He opens and closes his mouth once, twice, three times, unable to find anything to say.

He looks at his feet before mumbling, “Can I just stay the night? I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll be gone tomorrow morning.”

Peggy sighs deeply before reluctantly nodding her head and opening the door, letting Steve into the house.

As Steve falls asleep that night, he only sees your face from the last time he saw you. Hurt and anger, maybe even disgust on your face. He thinks about the ways in which he will try to win you back, despite the amount of time he had been away. He wasn’t sure how long his one day spent in the past will have been in your life. But he hopes that not enough time has passed for you to have forgotten about him.

As it turns out, five years had passed since he had left. He was confused at first when he came back. The machine Banner had left in the woods behind the Avengers facility had been left there but it was full of dust. The facility, which had been destroyed when he left, was now completely rebuilt and vibrant with life. He had been discreet, walking through the woods to get back to the city without being seen.

From there, he had been able to find a disguise to do research on where you were now. He had learned that you had moved back to Louisiana with Sam and were currently residing there.

As soon as he found out, he rented a car and made his way to you. The road was long but no place on this Earth was too far for him to travel so he could see you again.

When he got to Louisiana, he only had to ask one person to be pointed in your direction. Apparently, the Wilson family was like royalty in these parts. So, he was surprised when he arrived at the house that was indicated to him to find the door widely open, seemingly no one in sight.

Steve walks up the steps leading to the house, hearing someone running towards the door. He is taken aback when he sees a small girl stop suddenly in front of the door. She stares at Steve with wide eyes; she couldn’t be more than 6 years old, with short curly hair secured into pigtails and soft amber eyes.

Still staring at him, the child opens her mouth, “Mommy, there’s a man at the door!”

He hears feet padding their way to the door before he hears, “Lizzie, baby, how many times have I told you not to go to the door a-”

You stop abruptly in your tracks as you see before you the man you thought you would never see again. Your breath hitches as a lump grows in your throat.

“Steve?”

Steve smiles softly, “Hey sweetheart.”

You feel the air thickening as your eyes start to sting. You hold your hand out towards your child, setting it on her shoulder, before saying, “Elizabeth, go see Uncle Sam on the dock, okay?”

Completely unbothered, the child responds, “Okay, mommy.”, turning around and running towards what seems to be the kitchen.

You stay rooted to your spot, unable to move or say a single word and staring at Steve like he’s going to vanish before your eyes.

He takes slow steps towards you as if he’s afraid that if he moves too quickly, you’ll run away like a wild animal. He stops when he’s in arms reach of you.

He smiles a little before saying, jokingly, “No welcome home hug for me?”

Before you can even register what happened, your hand has already hit Steve across the face. You feel the heat of the slap warming up your hand as you clench it into a fist at your side.

Steve looks at you again, understanding that this was clearly the wrong thing to say to you. He softly strokes his cheek.

“Guess I deserved that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes before asking, “What the fuck are you doing here, Steve? I thought you were going back to Peggy?”

Steve shakes his head almost imperceptibly before saying, “That didn’t really work out…”

You scoff again, “So, what? Peggy rejects you and now you come back to get your second choice, is that it?” You shake your head, “You know, I almost didn’t mind being second-best to her all those years ago. But now? You can go to hell, Steve.”

He stares at you, almost like he’s not even listening to you, before asking, “Is she mine?” He bites his bottom lip, looking next to you where pictures of the child and you through the years adorn the walls.

“She seems about the right age, you know?”

You clench your fists, even tighter than before, which you didn’t know was possible. You can feel the blood gradually leaving your hands as you clench your jaw and look at Steve straight in the eyes, “No. She’s not. Not that it’s any of your business?”

Steve frowns in confusion, “Well then, who-”

He’s cut off as loud footsteps resonate through the walls of the house.

“Hey doll. Lizzie just came running down to the boat talking about how there’s a man in the house.”

Bucky’s voice, despite him being far enough away for you not to see him, travels perfectly to the spot in which you are still motionless. Bucky finally stops when he sees Steve standing on the porch.

He doesn’t hesitate for a single second before clenching his jaw and saying lowly, “Get out.”

Steve puts his hands up in surrender about to say something before Bucky screams, making you jump slightly, “Get out of my house! NOW!”

Steve looks between you and him, waiting for you to advocate on his behalf, but you had stopped doing that a long time ago. You stare back at Steve, almost challenging him to defy Bucky.

As Steve doesn’t move, Bucky walks heavily to the door, making you think that he is about to start a fight with Steve, you say, “Bucky, don’t.”

Bucky stops in front of Steve and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before slamming the door in Steve’s face. When Bucky turns back to you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in.

Your vision starts to get blurry, and your ears feel clogged as you faintly hear Bucky still next to the door, cursing Steve out. Your lungs burn as if air seems to be unable to find its air through your body as your legs tremble. Your head starts to spin and before you can understand what’s happening, your legs give out making you crumple on the floor.

You distantly hear Bucky call your name, but your brain seems unable to focus on his voice trying to pull yourself out of your current state. You feel a pair of strong arms holding you to a hard chest followed by a pair of soft hands stroking your hair and face.

After what seems like forever trying to fight against your own body, you let go and everything turns black.

When your eyes flutter open, you’re lying on your bed and the room is pitch black. Multiple hours have visibly passed but the room is completely silent. You push yourself up to the headboard, looking around you before getting up. Your legs are still shaky, so you lean on your bed to help guide you to the door.

As you walk through the halls of the house, you start hearing hushed voices in the living room. Stopping on the threshold, you look at Sam, Sarah and Bucky sitting around the dining table.

“Hey. What happened?”, you croak out.

All their heads snap in your direction and Bucky almost immediately walks towards you, enveloping you in a hug.

“Oh doll, I didn’t know you were awake. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

You tear yourself out of Bucky’s arms before looking at Sam and Sarah confusedly. They were looking at you like you just came back from the dead or something. Bucky stands next to you, also analyzing your face.

You frown, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh my God, what is it, guys? Stop looking at me like that!”

Sam gets up from his chair before gently stroking your arms.

“Do you remember anything from today?”

You frown again before slowly shaking your head. “Should I have something special to remember?”

Sam nods apprehensively before replying, “Steve was here today. Apparently, you guys talked for a while then Bucky got here, and you passed out.”

You rack your brain, trying to remember what he was talking about before you realize. Your body tenses up and you feel your breathing become ragged.

Bucky feels that and guides you to the dining table, making you sit down where he was before. He kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his.

“Doll, I want you to breathe with me, okay?”

You can feel your head start to spin and your vision becomes blurred, but you focus on Bucky’s voice.

“Deep breath in…”

He inhales deeply, making sure you’re following along.

“And out…”

He exhales deeply, looking into your eyes. You can feel your vision start to clarify.

“Again. In…” Inhale.

“Out…” Exhale. Your head stops spinning.

“One last time, in…” You inhale deeply through your nose.

“And, out…” You exhale through your mouth.

Bucky looks deeply into your eyes before stroking your cheeks. You shiver slightly from the difference in temperature of his hands that are both on your face. He gets up and sees your eyes sending him a panicked look.

“It’s okay… I’m just going to sit down here, okay?”

He sits down on the chair next to you before taking your hand in his. You look at Sarah and Sam, visibly trying to find something, anything to say.

After you all stay seated in silence for about 5 minutes, you look up at them.

“I want to see him.”

Sarah frowns, reaching for your hand that’s resting on the table.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Y/N? You didn’t… fare so well last time, you know?”, she says softly.

You nod, swallowing thickly.

“I know but he caught me by surprise. This time, I’ll know that I’ll see him so I can prepare myself.”

You can feel Bucky tensing up next to you. Sam clears his throat.

“Why do you want to see him? He knocked you up, broke your heart and left you for some 100-year-old woman he kissed once.”

“Sam!”, Sarah chastises.

“Can always count on you for the honesty.”, you say sourly, side-eyeing Sam.

“First of all, he didn’t know I was pregnant. Hell, I didn’t know I was pregnant until… the accident...”, you say silently.

You had been battling depression since your early teens, but it had never been that bad. Sam and Sarah had started to recognize the signs of your mental withdrawal almost immediately after Steve had left. About three weeks after Steve left, you had tried to take your own life by crashing your car in the lake behind the house. Bucky had found you just in time and brought you to the hospital.

The doctors had insisted on doing a complete medical check-up and had found that you were 2 months pregnant. You were ready to tell the doctor that you wanted to abort but Sam and Sarah had convinced you otherwise. They had told you that keeping the baby could be like a piece of Steve in your life and it could help you heal.

At first, you didn’t believe them, but they ended up being right. The baby saved you, giving your life purpose, something you thought you would never find again.

Bucky, Sam and Sarah had all pitched in to help but Bucky had realized that his desire to be there for you was more than guilt for his best friend leaving you. He had fallen in love with you. So, when he had asked you out, you had said yes. When he had proposed, you had also said yes.

Bucky was making you the happiest you had ever been in a long time. And you were now pregnant with your second child. You had learned about two weeks ago and you had announced it last weekend.

But you knew that, if you didn’t get closure from your time with Steve, you would never be able to be completely happy with Bucky.

You shake your head slightly, making yourself come back to your current situation.

“And second of all, I need to do it. For myself. But also, for my two children. I can’t be the mom they deserve if I don’t get some kind of closure from this whole… situation.”

Bucky huffs before getting up and walking quickly to your shared bedroom. You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

“Sam, can you try to track him down, please? I need to get this done soon.”

Sam looks at you for a couple of seconds before sighing and nodding his head.

“Thanks. Good night, guys.”

You walk to your bedroom, opening the door. When you walk in, you see that Bucky is laying down under the covers, his back to you. You walk slowly to the bed before kneeling down on it.

“Bucky.”

Nothing.

“Buck.”

He exhales loudly but doesn’t budge. You sigh deeply, stroking his back with one hand while the other turns him around.

“Bucky, baby, please, just listen to me.”

He rolls on his back but stares at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes. You sigh again before sitting down next to him, folding your hands in your lap.

“Look, Bucky, I understand that you’re upset. He hurt me but he also hurt you. He left us both and you’re allowed to be angry with him and deal with his return in whatever way you want but you can’t be mad at me for wanting to deal with it in the way that I want.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, still staring at the ceiling. You exhale slowly, putting a hand on Bucky’s cheek.

“Bucky, come on. Say something.”

You sigh deeply, “Bucky, I-”

“I’m scared, okay?”, he says loudly, turning his head to look at you. You jump slightly, unprepared for a response from him, much less such a loud response.

You frown, tilting your head, “Scared of what?”

He turns his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Bucky, you need to tell me.”

He puts his hands over his face, slightly muffling his answer, “I’m scared that you’re gonna see him and talk to him and fall back in love with him. And then, you’re gonna leave with Lizzie and then I’m gonna be left alone all over again…”,

You feel tears pooling in your eyes as you reach over to put your hands on his shoulders. You tug at him softly, indicating that you want him to get up. Bucky sits up, staring at your lap before you reach over and put a hand on his chin, lifting his head to look at you.

You stare into his eyes, also full of unshed tears, before saying,

“Bucky, I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”

He nods at you before whispering “okay.”

“First of all, Steve doesn’t know that Lizzie is his, okay? When he asked, I said no. And we’re going to keep it that way because you are her dad, Bucky, no one else. Second of all, it’s not like I’m going on a date with the man. I just want to talk to him so I can get closure. And third of all, in case you forgot, I’m wearing your ring on my finger, not his. And that’s how it’s gonna stay, okay?”

Bucky looks at you as tears start to fall down his face. He leans towards you, leaving a short but passionate kiss on your lips.

He lays back down on the bed before taking you in his arms as you listen to his steady heartbeat.

You look up at him, whispering, “I love you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky hums appreciatively before kissing the top of your head and answering, “I love you more.”

That night, you fall asleep with Bucky’s arm around your waist and his fingers intertwined with yours.

When you wake up the next morning, Bucky has already left the bed. You know that he’s either on a run or working on the boat with Sam.

You get up, brushing your teeth and getting ready before heading out to the dock. As you thought, you see Bucky and Sam working on the boat. They’re silent and you know it’s because you’re supposed to see Steve today.

“Hey Sam!”, you call out.

Sam turns towards you before meeting you halfway into the boat.

“Did you find him?”

He looks at you, raising an eyebrow before scoffing.

“Please. It took me less than 10 minutes. I told him to come at 11:30 so he should be here any minute.”

“Okay, thanks.” You look down at Bucky, still hard at work on the boat’s engine.

“Buck, can I talk to you for a second, please?” He drops the tool that was in his hand before walking up the stairs of the boat and stopping to sit down on the dock, not looking at you once.

You sit down next to him, before taking your hand in his.

“I’m just gonna talk to him, okay?” Bucky continues staring at his shoes but nods softly.

“I love you, you know that, right?”

He finally looks up at you and nods, murmuring, “I love you too.”

You smile at him, kissing his cheek.

“I-”

“Y/N, he’s here.”, you hear Sarah’s voice call out.

Bucky instantly tenses up and looks at you with panic in his eyes. You give a warm smile and whisper, “It’s gonna be okay, I promise. As soon as we’re done, I’m gonna come find you and then we can go do something fun together all day, okay?”

Bucky nods, sniffling softly, before heading back inside the boat.

You get up and follow Sarah to the backyard where Steve is sitting on a bench. As soon as he sees you, he gets up and adjusts his shirt. You feel the warm Louisiana air brushing against your skin as you take deep breaths, approaching him.

When you get to the bench, Sarah stops a couple of feet behind you. You look at her and nod, silently saying that you’re fine. Steve walks towards you and pulls out a bouquet of flowers, handing it to you.

You reluctantly take it and sit down at one end of the bench. Steve follows your actions and sits down on the other end.

“You look beautiful.”

Your breath hitches as you put the flowers on the bench between you.

“Look, Steve, I didn’t-”

You stop and frown as you see a purple bruise under his left eye. You instinctively reach up to touch it and he hisses as your warm hand touches his face.

“What happened?”

“Let’s just say that Sam was less than happy to see me.”

You chuckle softly. You should have known that he would have done something like that.

You put your hand back in your lap, trying to find the right words to express your feelings.

“I wanted to see you because I need closure for my family. That’s all.”

Steve looks at you longingly, “You always were one of the strongest women I knew. And beautiful, loving, caring, compass-”

“Look, Steve, I didn’t ask Sam to call you here so we could reminisce about old times. Why did you come back?”

Steve looks at the ground before clearing his throat, “When Peggy rejected me, it made me realize that I left the woman that I truly loved. And I thought that I could come back, and we could talk and-”

“I’m engaged”, you blurt out. You slap a hand over your mouth, shocked at yourself.

Steve looks at you and finally notices the diamond ring on your left hand.

“Oh… I, umm… Who is it?”

“Umm Bucky.”

Steve frowns, “You’re engaged to my best friend?”

You snort and mutter, “I don’t think he would call himself that anymore but sure.”

“But how?”

You scoff, “Well, when you get abandoned by the same person, you kinda find some things to bond about.”

“And it is… you know, serious?”, Steve asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You leave me, abandon me- us, for some girl and then you ask if it’s serious?” You get up, now completely furious and screaming,

“You can’t just waltz in here after five fucking years, after destroying me so bad I almost killed our child and then ask me if I’m serious about the love of my life!”

Steve seems shocked as his mouth stays open, “Wait, I thought you said she wasn’t mine?”

You stare at him before groaning loudly, “Oh, fuck me!”

Steve gets up, a determined look on his face.

“I want to meet her.”

You exhale deeply, calming yourself down before looking at the lake and crossing your arms.

“No.”

Steve stares you down, “I deserve to meet her.”

Your head snaps towards him, “You don’t deserve jack shit, Steve.”

Your vision becomes blurry with tears as you start hitting his chest aimlessly, “You left! You abandoned me! You deserve nothing!”

You feel strong arms pulling you back as you thrash around. Bucky’s soft voice rings in your ears,

“It’s okay, doll, it’s me. Calm down.”

Bucky’s hands cup your face, and he wipes your tears away with his thumbs as you calm down. When you stop crying, he pulls you into a hug and you feel his chest vibrate as he speaks lowly, “It’s time for you to go, Steve.”

You hear Steve’s equally deep voice from behind you, “I’m not going anywhere until I meet my child.”

Bucky chuckles humorlessly as you let go of Bucky and turn towards Steve, “She is not your child. She is Y/N and I’s little girl, and she will not be anywhere near you.”

As if on cue, Lizzie comes running out of the house.

“Mommy!”

You pick up your little girl and wrap your arms around her. She tries, but fails, to whisper in your ear, “Mommy, why is the man from yesterday here again?”

You chuckle at her lack of discretion. You stroke her back as you reply,

“He’s one of Mommy and Daddy’s old friend. But he was just about to leave.” Lizzie detaches her arms from around you before sliding down to the ground and walking to Steve. He kneels down to be eye-level with her and she holds her hand out to him.

“Hi. My name is Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Lizzie.” Steve shakes her little hand and responds, “Hi Lizzie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve.”

Lizzie frowns at Steve before saying, “Are the bad man Steve that hurt my mommy?”

A look of shock draws itself on Steve’s face as he stares at Lizzie.

Lizzie turns towards you and runs back before saying, “I want him to go!”

Bucky laughs under his breath before saying, “Okay, Lizzie, come on. Daddy’s gonna make you some lunch.”

Lizzie walks over to Bucky taking his large metal hand in her smaller one before walking rapidly towards the house.

Steve stands up, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Why did she say that?”

You scoff as you cross your arms and look at him, “Because she caught me crying my eyes out one day and she asked what was wrong with me. So, Sarah told her the story about the bad man Steve that hurt me and made me sad sometimes.”

Steve detaches his eyes from yours, guilt written all over his face.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers.

“I didn’t know how bad I hurt you when I left and I shouldn’t have come back here like everything was going to be like it was when I left.”

Steve looks back at you, tears in his eyes. “I’ll leave and never come back. And congratulations on the engagement. I’m sure that Bucky and you are going to be great together.”

Steve starts to walk back towards the front yard as you stay standing in front of the bench. You hear the motorcycle start and before you can stop yourself, your legs are running towards him to stop him from leaving.

He turns off the motorcycle when he sees you in front of him.

You take a deep breath, clenching and unclenching your fists a couple of times before you say, “I forgive you. And I’m sorry I lied about Lizzie not being yours, I just… I don’t know.”

Steve nods slightly and starts his motorcycle again before riding off towards the road. You let you a breath and walk to the house.

When you see Bucky and Lizzie in the kitchen, playfully preparing some lunch, you smile bigger than you have in what felt like forever.

Your mind and your heart were finally at peace.

hi @saiyanprincessswanie i would love it if you could check this out for your reading list, hope you enjoy🤍

#bucky barnes x black!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes x black reader #steve rogers x black reader #bucky barnes fanfic #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction

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eternally-writing · 4 years

Text

tour troubles | jjk

genre: fluff, angst

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: idol!au, boyfriend!au, one-shot

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

Synopsis: When surprising your boyfriend Jungkook on tour doesn’t quite go as you planned, it’s up to you now to help cheer him up.

banner by me!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

After a grueling 6 months apart, you were more than happy to be in MetLife Stadium watching your boyfriend live out his dreams on stage. The Map of the Soul Tour was no joke; Jungkook was practicing all day and performing all night, and combined with your final exam season passing by it left little time for you to talk to each other.

Finally wrapping up the school year, you got in touch with Jimin to see if he could help you plan a surprise visit for Jungkook on one of their final tour stops.

All of the members had become like family to you, but it's no secret that aside from Jungkook you are closest with Jimin. He was like the older brother you never had, and you always ran to him whenever you needed relationship advice or a good hug.

As you watched Jungkook on stage you noticed his smile falter sometimes as he would be slightly out of position or dance off beat. You could only pick this out because you had spent hours in the practice room dancing with Jungkook.

You and Jungkook had come together because of your shared love for dance. He had first asked you out inside a very sweaty-scented Big Hit practice room, almost half of your dates ended with some form of dancing, and whenever one of you was frustrated you could always find the other teary-eyed, lying on the marley floor of a dance studio. You had always been there to whisper words of encouragement in his ear when he was feeling down, and you wished nothing more than for her voice to reach the stage at the moment.

Soon enough, the concert came to an end and you were flashing her pass to the backstage security guard to get to see the boys. Despite your uneasy feeling watching the concert, you couldn't ease the butterflies in your stomach at seeing your boyfriend for the first time in months.

Ever since you had planned this, you spent your nights imagining exactly how Jungkook would react: whether he would hug and kiss you first, stay frozen on the spot in shock, or start crying right away.

As you stepped into the Big Hit dressing room, you were instantly greeted with several smiling faces.

I didn't take you long to do a head count and realize that there were only 6 boys standing in front of you, and that your boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

Making eye contact with Jimin, you saw the softness in his eyes as he motioned for you to come closer so he could explain.

“He’s not feeling well Y/N, and none of us can get him to talk about it. We’re so worried. I swear I’ve only gotten like 2 words out of him tonight, and I even tried to make a nutella sandwich for him to cheer him up. I’m sorry this isn’t what you had planned, but can you talk to him please? For us?”

You took a deep breath before pulling back the curtain divider in the dressing room. Your nerves catching up to you, you considered just turning around and telling the boys you would surprise him at their next concert instead.

You had dealt with Jungkook being troubled and frustrated more times than you could count, but you were worried you had lost her touch after being apart from him for months.

Your mind also flew the other way. How many times has he felt like this after a concert and never told you? When he said "It was fun I'm just really tired now" after every concert was he truly feeling like this?

With that, you pushed forward because you knew that you had to be there to support Jungkook today, even if you couldn't be there for all the other times.

The sight that greeted you behind the curtain was not a pretty one.

Jungkook was staring blankly at the monitor in front of him, dark fringes of his hair matted against his sweaty forehead, tour hoodie zipped up completely with the hood on, and worst of all, his eyes were clearly puffy and swollen, with tinges of red coming through from underneath his makeup.

Jungkook barely even glanced your way as you sat down an ample distance away from Jungkook on the couch. It was clear from his lack of surprise at your appearance that one of the boys (probably Jimin) had probably told him about your surprise visit earlier in an effort to cheer him up after the concert, but even that could not get him out of this slump.

Of all the scenarios you came up with for how Jungkook would react to your surprise, somehow this one never crossed your mind.

You turned your focus to where Jungkook was staring - a TV monitor replaying video footage from tonight's concert. You watched as his eyebrows stayed furrowed as he glared disapprovingly at himself for making even the smallest of mistakes in the video, almost wincing as the TV monitor continued to play the footage.

"Do you want me to help point out things in the video?"

Jungkook didn’t even move a muscle.

You took the silence as a yes, and pulled a pen and the closest thing you could find to paper, a napkin, out of your purse to write on.

Working as a dance teacher had taught you more than a couple tricks about how to give constructive feedback, and you were a firm believer in the "give 2 compliments and then 1 thing to work on" approach. However, you knew the issue with Jungkook wasn't that he was truly bad at dancing, but rather that he was way too hard on himself for the smallest details that the audience wouldn't even notice - so she threw in a few more compliments than usual. Unsure of how Jungkook would react to seeing the list, you still threw some of those very nit-picky details on there, knowing that if he was still frustrated he would throw the list out all together if he thought you were just coddling him.

And so you both sat together in front of that grainy TV monitor, in complete silence aside from the sound of your pen scratching against the napkin.

June 10, 2020 MOTS:7 Tour Feedback Report for Jeon Jungkook ( by Y/N)

- match angle of arm placement in Black Swan Opening Choreo

- footwork on DNA ending choreo could be cleaned up

- the ARMY at the corner of the screen during Euphoria had the biggest smile when you looked at her. I think she’s gonna remember that moment for the rest of her life.

- I like the way you wink at the camera during So What! Gave me butterflies babe.

- could add more energy into the last Fake love chorus ( hot bod btw!!)

And the list kept going on and on as you diligently focused on the screen and writing notes, taking occasional glances at your silent boyfriend.

Upon glancing over your shoulder and seeing your list, Jungkook smiled at your thoughtful and sweet comments.

All of sudden, a wave of consciousness and realization washed over him.

He finally has the girl he loves in front of him again after months apart, and instead of cherishing his limited time with you he was spending it watching himself dance, which is what he had already spent the last 9 years of his life doing. Most of all, you never let your smile falter once in front of him, even though he knew you may be upset with his response to your surprise, and you went along with whatever he wanted to do - even if that meant watching a very very low-quality video of his performances on a loop.

Grabbing the napkin gently out of her hands and placing it on the table, Jungkook cupped your face and looked gently into your eyes.

"Thank you", he said softly, as if not wanting to startle you with his sudden character change.

In your head there was absolutely no need for Jungkook to be thanking her for anything she was doing. She knew dating an idol would have its challenges, and she made a promise to Jungkook that she would be by his side through it all, even if that included rewatching Euphoria on loop.

It was now your turn to sigh.

“There’s nothing to thank me for babe, it’s just me. I wanna be here for you when you’re like this - I didn’t just date you so I could be there to celebrate your Billboard #1s and daesang sweeps, I’m here for these moments too.”

Jungkook further eliminated the space between you both by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. In that moment he realized that maybe all he needed was you. That all these hurdles he had been facing alone would have been much easier if he had just let you in on his problems.

“I just feel bad Y/N, I haven’t even seen you for months and the first time I see you I’m like this? I’m sorry.”

The gears started turning in your head. Batting your eyes overdramatically at your boyfriend, you smiled.

“Okay how about we make a deal then babe?”

Jungkook looked at you curiously and let you carry on.

“From now on, every time you feel like this you come to me okay? We can figure this out together, but I can’t help you if you don’t let me in,” you expressed, grabbing his hands in yours.

“Also, if you felt like making it up to me you could buy me some ice cream? It’s not the same when I eat it without you,” you joked.

Jungkook’s melodic laugh vibrated through the room.

“Just ice cream? You’re selling yourself short babe. I’d buy the whole world for you, my love.”

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

As you emerged from behind the curtained section of the dressing room, hand in hand with a smiley Jungkook ( a stark comparison from how he was a mere hour early), you were greeted with Jimin jumping up and cheering loudly upon seeing the maknae.

Unable to contain his excitement, Jimin ran towards the two of you, chiming “you did it Y/N!! You brought back our maknae!”

“Good to see you smiling, Jungkookie,” beamed Jimin as he stepped forward to ruffle Jungkook’s hair.

Jungkook chuckled and looked up at his hyungs.

“I think I owe you all some ice cream. Ready to go? It’ll be treat.”

If his hyungs weren’t already excited to see Jungkook feeling like himself, now they were ecstatic. And you definitely felt the same way as well. ♡

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you liked this, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading ♡

- Emily

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced.

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making.

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?”

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on.

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous.

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said.

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.”

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.”

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory.

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years.

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-”

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-”

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash.

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.”

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view.

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.”

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.”

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement. The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely.

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.”

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply.

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster. “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?”

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme.

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-”

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...”

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions.

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-”

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head.

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #prequel trilogy #potentially triggering #discussions of suicide #references to self-harm #star wars au #bonding? between #Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker #? in my #hurt/comfort fic #? It’s more likely than you’d think #also I struggle with fix it stories that just never address the big tusken elephant in the room? of course i want everyone to #live happily ever but theres a certain scale of atrocity that i feel u gotta address 2 get there #ugh this chapter got reallly long and im just gonna post it ok? ok.#meh #a lot of this fic is just people mentally going What The Fuck at various registers with different inflections #Because that’s not an inappropriate response to time travel in general! and star wars canon in particular.#star wars au no 27

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spencerhotchner · 4 years

Text

Alternative {spencer reid}

Chapter 1

summary: Since quarentine was announced, Y/N decided to rewatch all seasons of Criminal Minds. On a lonely night she wished she could be in that universe instead of this. What happens when she wakes up in 2008 in Quantico?

warnings: angst, a very confused reader, regular cm stuff and my grammar (if you find anything else pls lmk

word count: 2k

a/n: i have this idea while watching a movie about parallel universes and all, so i just wanted to try this out. it will be a 10 parts series! im not really sure about this, i think i kinda hate it but im posting it anyways lmao. i hope you gonna enjoy!

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2

You woke up feeling dizzy and with a major headache. At first you thought it was because you drank a whole lot of wine last night but then you saw yourself in a room you never saw before. You stoop up quickly trying to understand where you were and how did you end up there. You were sure that you have never been in this place before, and it was scaring you that you showed up in there.

There was a mirror nailed to the wall in from of you almost forcing you to look at your own body, that made you notice that you were still wearing the same clothes from last night, but you weren’t home. Not being home was odd given by the fact you stayed there with your family and two friends you invited over, since there’s a whole freaking pandemic going on and you for sure did not want to get sick or get other people sick.

“Did I get kidnapped?” you think out loud. “No, I just watch too much Criminal Minds.” you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You reach for the face mask placed on the nightstand, getting ready to leave this random place and go home. You tried not to freak out when you realized your phone was gone and the only cellphone in there was probably as old as your grandmother. You dialed your moms number about five times and all of them went on voicemail, making you curse mentally.

This can’t be happening. Not to me.

As soon as you leave the apartment you were in you realized you weren’t in your hometown, definitely not. It was crowded, like, really crowded and no one was wearing any face masks. Where did the freaking pandemic go? You wondered while you felt like a misfit for being the only one wearing it.

“Excuse me, can you tell me where I am?” you ask an old lady walking by.

“You’re on Main Street, sweetheart.” she says.

“No, um, I mean the city.” you watched as the old lady looked at you with a funny face, as if she was calling you crazy on her mind.

“We’re in Quantico, dear.”

“Quantico?” you repeat, mostly for yourself then for her. The lady started at you like you were an alien. “Thank you so much, ma’am.”

The air started to go low on you, how did you get to Virginia, anyway? That was across the country from where you lived, Bellevue in Washington state. You started lost walking, trying to understand what the hell was going on. It felt like you were on a parallel universe, like you were in a dream but couldn't wake up and it sure felt very real. You stoped a jornal shop taking a lot at the last newspaper in there, trying to figure if something happened that you were missing. However, nothing reported there shocked you, what did, though, was the date.

July 1st, 2008

You were about to ask someone about it when you bumped into a blonde woman, falling on the ground. As soon as you looked up, you almost chocked yourself. If the day was already weird, this was even weirder. A.J Cook was standing right in front of you with a concerned look. You couldn't really say anything, just staring at her like she wasn't real. It was weird seeing her in front of you after only seeing her through screens.

“I’m so sorry!” she said as she offered a hand for you to get up. “Are you ok?”

“I- um, yes! I’m fine.” you san, getting the dirt out of your outfit. “I’m a big fan of yours! Wish I had my phone here to take a picture but- sorry.“ you stoped talking, realizing she probably doesn’t care.

“Big fan of me? Wow, howcome somebody’s a fan of me?” she sounds surprised.

“Well, you’re on Criminal Minds.” you say as it was obvious.

She looked at you as if you were out of your mind. Not that you weren't thinking otherwise at the moment, anyways.

“I’m on what now?” she asked.

Maybe you got confused and she was the wrong person, but she looked so much like her to not be her. If they were not the same person, then definitely twins. This was so weird, once again, you found yourself asking ‘what the hell’ mentally.

“You’re JJ, Jennifer Jareau, FBI Agent and all.” you say, trying one more time. “Behaviour Analysis Unit...”

“Yea, that‘s me.” she let a nervous laugh comes out of her mouth. “How do you know me?”

‘This is weird’ you thought. How does she not understand where you know her from? Literally Criminal Minds, like you said at first. ‘Maybe this is all a dream.’

“I saw you on tv” you try.

“Oh, I see! You like law enforcement?” she asks you.

“Oh yes, I’m in law-school to be a judge someday.” you answered. “The show, all of it just makes me wanna put all them bad guys in jail.” you say, laughing a bit.

“The show...? What?” you hear her whisper, but decide to ignore it. “What’s the mask about?” JJ asks, making you look at her surprised.

“Um, covid-19?” you say like it’s obvious, because it is.

“Oh, sure...” she smiles as she says it, almost like she's only agreeing because she won't discuss it. “Great talking to you, really, but I gotta go, FBI duty calls.” she jokes.

You smile at her watching carefully as she picks up her phone from her pocket and pick up a call. That phone looked awfully old, like 2000’s old. Why would a famous actress have that kinda of phone? Then, you looked around trying to understand more about what was going on. It was all too out of place.

First, nobody wearing masks, not even a single person but you. Second, you were in a city in which is miles away from your own. Third, a famous actress acted like she’s nobody. And fourth, the date on the calendar said 2008.

If it wasn’t just impossible I would say I time travelled into Criminal Minds universe.

After standing there for literal 10 minutes trying to figure it out what you were going to do, you decide to go to the police department. After all, you may have been abducted, right? Because you didn’t have any knowledge of the place, you took quite some time to get there. As soon as you got there you sigh in relief, that has been quite a walk and damn, you were tired of this situation.

“Excuse me, ma’am, can you help me?” you ask to the lady standing behind the counter.

“Sure, dear. What do you need?” she looks up at you, taking her glasses of her face.

“I think I might have been abducted?” you start. “I woke up in this random apartment.”

“Maybe you had a one-night stand.” she said putting back her glasses.

“No! I am sure I didn’t because first of all, there’s a pandemic going on, second of all I was in Bellevue in Washington state when I went to sleep.” you yell, involuntarily, desperate to make her believe in you.

“Miss, I’m gonna need you to calm down or you will be escorted out of the building. You’re probably on drugs, there's nothing we can do for you.”

“Fuck you.” you say as you watch her face get all red.

Frustrated. That could define what you were feeling, scared and worried could do the work, as well. What were you going to do now? Go to the FBI to see if they could freaking understand why you simply appeared in Quantico? Didn't sound like a bad idea in your mind as you decided to just try it out. After all, you were already pretty screwed up, it would worth a shot.

You reached for your back pocket, hoping that the money you shoved in there more than a week ago would still be in there. Bingo! You pull out a 20 dollar bill out of it and the next thing you know you’re getting into a cab asking him to take you to the FBI. Now that’s something you never thought would happen. The travel was quite quick, in 20 minutos you were standing in front of that big isolated building. It looked like it was taken straight out of your favorite show, that was insane.

The wind blew hard on you when you got out of the vehicle, making you shiver a little, that reminded you that you did not have any clothes nor money to buy more. God, you did not even have where to go. You didn't even get the chance to get into the building as a big man steps in front of you, blocking your way.

“Miss, you're not allowed in this building.” he said without much expression.

“But, sir-” you started, as you saw he was about to interrupt you, you go on. “Ive been abducted and I don't know where or how the hell did I get in here, I’m completely hopeless... Please.” you beg him.

He started at you for a couple of seconds, that felt like centuries for you, just to sigh at you.

“Ok, follow me.” he said. “Do not make me regret this.”

“I-I won’t, sir.” you were quick to answer.

The agent asked another man to cover up for him as he led me into the building. Once again you found yourself admired of how much it did look like a Criminal Minds episode in there, if you weren't totally desperate you'd be amused. Soon, you two were out of the elevator on floor 8, leading with the words Behavior Analysis Unit quite big.

“Can you take her to Agent Jareau, please?” the man said to someone who passed by, who simply agreed.

Now, that's a funny coincidence, there's actually an Agent Jareau in the BAU.

You followed the woman with questioning trying to stay calm when you saw Matthew Gray Gubler sitting on a desk reading some book in Reid style, almost like he was Spencer himself. If you had any doubts you were going crazy, that was the final proof. You stoped walking, taking a stare at him and then at the Agent that stared a you like you were an alien.

“Is there something wrong?” she asks you. “Miss, are you ok?”

You were unable to answer for a few seconds when you finally opened you mouth, still trying to figure it out how to say what was on your mind without sounding completely insane.

“Is that Dr. Spencer Reid?”

And that was all you’re able to say because as soon as you let his name out of your mouth he looked up at you, trying to somehow recognize you. You were sure, that time, that you never looked - and sounded - as insane as right now.

“Yes, that's me.” he answers.

His voice was the last thing you could hear before everything go black. Maybe you were finally going to wake up. Maybe.

329 notes · View notes

nugnthopkns · 4 years

Text

it all pours out after dark

word count: 5.8k

warnings: insinuated!fem reader, cursing, mentions of alcohol (but no consumption), expressions of self doubt

recommended listening: the knife | maggie rogers

series masterpost: here

a/n: first installment of hiiapl!! very excited about what’s to come. here is some bffs/roommates to lovers with petey :))

Elias’s friendship was a welcome surprise.

You hadn’t expected much when you met the Swede – after all, you were serving at the annual Canucks charity gala and he was the rookie poised to win the Calder trophy. There were a million other things you would have rather done than spend a Saturday evening walking around in sky high stilettos and passing out flutes of champagne, but the catering company paid generously, and you needed to come up with the funds for your next tuition installment. Vancouver may be beautiful, but it’s incredibly expensive.

So you spent the night with a kilowatt smile plastered on your face, staying silent in the background and making sure no one’s glasses were ever empty. You were barely legal to handle alcohol, freshly nineteen and waiting for an opportunity to experience the city’s nightlife for yourself. There was no way you should be regulating the alcohol consumption of adults but you were doing it anyways. The tips were very generous, more than you should have probably been receiving, but you accepted them with a smile because the athletes making millions could certainly afford it.

No one paid you any attention, but you didn’t mind. The night was beginning to wear on you and the event didn’t plan on stopping for another couple of hours. You debated on what to do with your tray while you tried to work out the knots that were forming in feet from standing for so long.

“Let me hold that for you,” a gentle voice sounded from behind you.

When you turned around you were face to face with Elias Pettersson. “That won’t be necessary,” you stated, tone kind but firm. If your supervisor caught you, you would have been fired immediately.

He didn’t take no for an answer. “Please,” he urged, thick accent ringing out in the space between you. “Your feet are going to cramp. Take your shoes off for two minutes.” The English was broken, but you appreciated the sentiment. He really wanted to help.

After a little more insisting from the blonde you agreed, and he diligently stood watch to ensure you wouldn’t get in trouble. It was a relief to be out of the torturous constraint of your shoes for a few moments, and you thanked him profusely.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, a small smile on his face. Shouting erupted from some other players then, looking for him.

“You better get back before they miss you too much.” You nodded in the direction of the voices, to which he begrudgingly agreed. Elias handed you back the tray of champagne flutes before taking one for himself.

He was about to fade into the crowd when he turned to face you again. “I never caught your name,” he stated.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Elias.”

With that he disappeared into the throng of people. You never expected to hear from him again, chalking it up to a kind interaction with a stranger, but a day later he had messaged you on Instagram after searching through the countless profiles that shared your name and were located in the general Vancouver area. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, and you became fast friends.

☼☼☼☼

That first meeting was nearly four years ago, and countless memories had been made since then. You treasure your friendship with Elias, and truthfully it’s the one you hold closest to your heart. This could be because over the years you’ve developed a small crush on the lanky blonde, but it’s a secret you’ll take to the grave. No one knows of your true feelings for Elias, and no one ever will.

“E? I’m home,” you shout into the quiet apartment, wondering if he’s home from morning skate yet.

After you completed your undergraduate degree and your lease ended, Elias insisted you move into his spare bedroom. The offer was too tempting to resist – you got to live with your best friend and continue your education in a city you adore. Moving your stuff had been a bit of a pain, but your life fit seamlessly into Elias’s. The two of you worked well as roommates, and over the past few months the space began to reflect not just Elias, but you as well. Hair ties were randomly thrown on counters and the bookshelves began to fill.

You’re setting the few groceries you picked up from the local market on the counter when he comes down the hall.

“Hi sunshine,” Elias says softly, voice riddled with sleep. He must have returned home earlier than you thought and had a quick nap.

You smile at the nickname. Elias had gifted it to you early in your friendship when you were in a terrible mood. He had meant it sarcastically at first, but it stuck. Now he hardly calls you by your name.

“How was practice?”

“Really tough,” he admits, moving behind you to place the apples in the fridge. “Coach is being hard on us because we aren’t performing well.”

You frown but hold your tongue. Your degree in sports psychology tells you that isn’t the way to improve players’ morale, but Elias doesn’t like it when you lecture him on what the Canucks staff are doing wrong. He knows things aren’t perfect within the organization and hopes desperately the situation will improve when they start winning again.

The two of you put the rest of the food away in comfortable silence and then unwind by watching numerous episodes of House. You had recently decided to give the medical drama a rewatch, and Elias’s interest was piqued by the snarky physician who always saves the day. It’s become your favourite way to relax and it seems that both of you need it today.

“How does Wilson do it?”

You’re perplexed. “Do what?”

“Put up with House,” Elias sighs. “He’s an asshole.”

Laughter tumbles from your lips. “The same way I deal with you, grumpy.”

“No,” he scoffs, tossing a pillow in your general direction. “You’re House and I’m Wilson, sunshine. Being an asshole is how you got that nickname in the first place.”

You couldn’t argue with Elias’s point – he was right. Between the two of you, you’re the one most likely to be snarky with your anger and he’s more likely to shut himself off from the rest of the world. “Fuck off,” you giggle.

When Elias crawls on top of you and drops his weight you don’t flinch. You’ve become accustomed to his casual yet spontaneous displays of physical touch, and by now the two of you can frequently be found with your limbs tangled together.

The rest of your afternoon passes in the blink of an eye. You fall asleep a few episodes in, and you assume Elias did as well because when you wake up his body is still pressed against yours. Once your eyes adjust to being awake, you notice it’s well into the evening. Your stomach rumbles and you decide you have to get up.

“E,” you say softly, not wanting to completely disrupt his rest. The season is off to a rougher start than everyone hoped for, and he hasn’t been sleeping well.

There’s no response from the boy on top of you so you try again, voice a decibel or two louder. “Elias, please let me up. I’ve gotta start dinner.”

“Mhmm,” Elias murmurs, not opening his eyes. “Or you could just stay here. You’re so warm.”

You roll your eyes. “Dude, we’ve got to eat. Come on.”

He doesn’t move. In fact, he presses more weight on you, effectively trapping you on the couch. “We can just order food in a bit,” Elias suggests. “Please just stay and nap a bit longer.”

That’s all it takes to convince you, and you let your eyes flutter shut again. In the comfort of your best friend sleep comes easy, and neither of you move far from the couch for the rest of the night.

The next few days are incredibly busy, and you don’t see Elias much. School is heating up and you’re struggling to stay afloat. In an effort to get the team to put up a few wins, the Canucks organization is holding extra practices and development workshops in between games, so Elias is barely home. When he is he’s exhausted and spends most of his free time in his room, chatting with friends at home or playing video games.

You do your best to not let the distance bother you, but not being able to have a conversation that lasts more than fifteen minutes before one of you is running out the door is wearing you down. You miss your best friend.

Elias is set to go out with some of the younger guys on the team this evening, and though he invited you, you’re in a graduate student society meeting until well after they’re supposed to be leaving. He deserves the time to unwind, but a part of you is jealous he actually gets it. Both of you have been running around like chickens with your heads cut off and it seems like Elias can finally slow down. You on the other hand cannot.

Approximately twelve million things go wrong throughout the course of the day. First, you left your lunch and wallet at home, leaving you unable to eat. Then your advisor was late to your meeting and insisted it was your fault. To top everything off, the graduate student society dismissed your proposal for more funding into public outreach programs. You really, really wanted to be at home.

The door to the apartment is unlocked upon your arrival home, which you find strange. Elias isn’t one to forget to lock it on his way out the door. Brock was terrible about remembering that sort of thing, so you assume he was the last one out. You open it with a sigh and kick off your sneakers. It has been a long day, and you’re looking forward to opening the bottle of wine you picked up with groceries last week.

It doesn’t dawn on you that Elias’s shoes are still by the door or that the living room light is on. You’re so preoccupied with getting comfortable you don’t realize you aren’t alone until you hear a voice from down the hall.

“Rough day sunshine?”

Elias is standing at the end of the hallway, staring at you intently. It’s as if he can sense the tension rolling off your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I thought you were going out with the guys?”

He just shrugs. “Didn’t really feel like it. Besides, I knew you were having an off day because you didn’t text me on your lunch break so I wanted to be here for you.”

You nearly tear up from his words. Elias is a lot of things, and kindhearted is certainly one of them. “Go have a shower,” he insists, “And I’ll start dinner.”

“Thanks E.”

A hand comes up to ruffle your hair on his way by. “Don’t mention it.”

The two of you spend the night tucked against each other, eating pasta and telling stories. You never make it to the fridge to get that bottle of wine, but you don’t mind because during your shower Elias made hot chocolate for you both. Conversation flows into the early morning, and by the time you head to bed you can’t remember why you were upset in the first place.

☼☼☼☼

The season drags on. The Canucks still aren’t playing well, and it’s beginning to wear on Elias. He’s spending more time in his room, reviewing tape and tweaking his workout regime to achieve maximum results. You worry he’s beginning to isolate himself and that it won’t be good for his mental health.

“Do you want to go hiking tomorrow?” you ask him at dinner. The team has a rare day off, and the coaching staff want them to decompress before leaving on a long road trip.

Elias shrugs, not looking up at you as he continues to cut his vegetables. “Not really sunshine. I have some clips I need to watch.”

You sigh loud enough to make him feel bad, and his eyes meet yours. “E, you need a break. Let’s go to that trail you like and just relax for a while. I’ll pack a lunch and we can just go slow.”

Whether or not he’s just appeasing you or genuinely wants to go you aren’t sure, but Elias agrees. He places a hand on your shoulder in silent thanks before loading his plate into the dishwasher and retreating to his bedroom. You take it as a victory, however small, and are glad he didn’t completely shut down the idea. The rest of the night is quiet, with you finishing a book and falling asleep on the couch.

Neither of you are quick to rise in the morning but it doesn’t matter. There’s no timeline for your upcoming adventure so long as you’re back before dark. You make it to the kitchen before Elias and take it upon yourself to make breakfast for the two of you. It’s nothing fancy, just oatmeal, but your best friend appreciates it when he finally makes an appearance. Elias looks like he slept for a maximum of three hours, and you have half a mind to tell him you’ll take a rain cheque, but you know he needs a change of pace.

The two of you chat idly throughout the meal but it isn’t tense or awkward. Neither of you are completely awake, and both like time to reflect in the morning. It’s nearly an hour later when you meet Elias at the door. You grab your keys, much to his surprise.

“What?” you shrug.

Elias cocks a brow in your direction. “You hate driving on the highway.”

He’s right – you have no issues navigating the traffic riddled streets of Vancouver, but as soon as you get out of the city and onto the freeway you freeze up.

“Gotta get over my fear at some point. Come on superstar.”

There’s no complaint from Elias, and you suspect he’s secretly relieved. Driving isn’t his strong suit either but you know he does it so you don’t have to. The ride is quiet, and once you hit the city limits the car feels lighter, as though Elias left all his stress behind. Some lo-fi playlist trickles through the speakers as you get closer to your destination. It isn’t your kind of music, or Elias’s for that matter, and you’re pretty sure Brock gave him the link. The parking lot is empty when you arrive, and you back into a spot with ease.

Usually Elias would comment on your driving quirk, teasing you because ‘no one under the age of sixty-five backs into a parking space’, but he’s quiet. You wonder if he even noticed. Nerves about the possibility of a far-away look in Elias’s eyes subside when he scrambles to get out of the car.

“First one to the top wins,” he shouts, metres ahead of you as you double check to make sure the car is locked. You let out a full laugh but don’t try to catch up – he’s going to win anyway so you might as well enjoy yourself.

The hike does wonder for Elias. Just being outside, in the fresh air that doesn’t hold any expectation of who he should be, is enough to lighten his mood considerably. You trail behind him the entire time, allowing yourself to marvel at his beauty from afar. The longer you live with Elias, the harder it’s becoming to mask your feelings. A couple of times he pauses to wait for you to catch up, and once at the top of the small summit he lifts you into the air in triumph.

“Alright E, put me down,” you giggle, squirming out of his grip. He obliges and places you back onto the rocky surface as though his previous act was the easiest thing in the world.

The two of you marvel at the view from the top of the mountain for a bit longer before making the trek back down to the car. Halfway down the trail you fall behind significantly, exhausted from not only hiking up a mountain, but worrying about Elias and stressing over some school deadlines that are rapidly approaching. Elias slows his steps so you can catch up, and insists you jump up to piggy-back the rest of the way. You try to protest but he isn’t having it. Eventually you give in and doze off with your face tucked into the crook of his neck.

You let Elias drive home, too worn out to think about the traffic you’ll inevitably hit. When you get home you allow him to tuck you into bed, and don’t tease him when presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

The road trip both flies by and drags on. At home, you're busy with school, work, and taking care of Brock’s dogs. Coolie and Milo have become a welcome responsibility, and truthfully you love having them around. They make the absence of Elias less apparent. Each night you curl up on the couch, a dog on either side, and watch the game intently. The Canucks seem to be on the up, winning the first three games with ease. It’s like something has clicked between them and on-ice communication is no longer a problem. However, that changes quickly, and they lose the entire back half of the trip.

You do your best to comfort Elias from afar – sending him periodic text messages of encouragement, random memes you find on instagram, and calling after every game. The streak of misfortune is getting to him, and it’s beginning to affect his play. He adds only one point the entire trip, an assist that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things since they were blown out of the water. When you talk to him it’s easy to hear how upset he is, and you imagine he’s hearing a lot worse than what you’re telling him from the coaching staff. It makes your blood boil – how they’re treating him – but you’re helpless. Nothing you can say will undo the potential damage.

The Canucks get back late, and you’re tucked into bed with the dogs, nearly asleep. You’ll return Brock’ pets in the morning. If you hadn’t had a disastrous meeting with your advisor you would’ve met them at the airport, seeing as it’s Friday and you often don’t go to bed until well into the morning, but your body is thoroughly exhausted.

You don’t hear the door open and are only alerted to a new presence because the dogs perk their ears. Footsteps echo through the silent apartment, and you think you can hear Elias grumbling in Swedish. He makes no attempt to find you so you assume he thinks you’re sleeping. You should be. Up until three minutes ago you were on the verge of sleep, but now you wait with baited breath to see if you can hear any indicators to Elias’s mood.

A door closes and seconds later the shower turns on, so you assume he’s feeling alright. Most certainly not great, but well enough to maintain his normal routine. You don’t try to move, knowing you’ll talk to him in the morning, and finally allow yourself to commit to sleep. There’s a few minutes of bliss where you’re almost unconscious, but your slumber is disrupted by a quiet knock at your door.

“Sunshine?”

Elias’s voice sounds like a different type of exhaustion that you’ve never heard, and you know right then that you won’t deny him entry to your room.

“I’m awake E,” you mumble, praying he can hear you because you spoke so softly. The door creaks open and you can just make out his facial features in the dark.

Standing tentatively in the doorway, Elias looks at you with tear-rimmed eyes. “Y/N, I think I’m going to get benched.”

☼☼☼☼

His suspicions were, unfortunately, right. The decision to bench Elias had apparently been made on the plane ride home, but he wasn’t informed until the team meeting after practice the next morning. You knew something bad had happened because when he came home there was no conversation. He slipped through the door like a ghost and disappeared into his room. You knew better than to go after him right away – Elias is the type of person who needs to process his emotions alone before sharing them with others.

You busy yourself with editing the chunk of your thesis proposal that has occupied your brain for the past few weeks. It’s getting closer to the end of your first year of graduate school, and you need to get approval for your topic soon. You hope to research the effects of locker room speech on athletes’ mental health. The focus group will be the Vancouver Whitecaps, and you’re excited to work with them. Your advisor has some personal connections and pulled a few strings to get you the gig and you’re extremely thankful.

An hour or two passes before Elias pads his way into the main living area. Wordlessly he flops onto the couch and holds his arms up in the air. You can read Elias like a book – you know he wants you to stop working and lie on top of him. The action brings him comfort, which he desperately needs in this moment, so you don’t have an issue with it. On your way over you grab a banana from the fruit bowl and offer it to him. He takes it, but sets it gently on the coffee table.

Once you’re settled, Elias wraps his arms around your body, holding you to him like he’s scared you’ll slip through his fingers otherwise. You absentmindedly trace patterns on his forearms for a while, letting the silence soothe him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

It’s a shot in the dark, you know, but you try anyway. Elias doesn’t answer, instead asking you what you did while he was gone. You indulge him, knowing it’s the only way to take his mind off the heartache, and narrate the menial chores you did in painstaking detail. It seems to help, and eventually Elias brings his own anecdotes into the conversation, telling you something dumb Brock had whispered in his ear at practice.

Eventually Elias has to get ready to go to the rink. Though he isn’t playing he’s expected to be there, dressed sharply and watching from the press box. You help him as best you can – ironing his favourite tie and filling his lucky mug with just the right amount of coffee.

He gives you a short hug in thanks before bending down to tie his dress shoes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” you ask. “I can easily get a press pass and we could sit together.”

Elias shakes his head. “You have work to get done. I’ll be fine sunshine,” he says, doing his best to convince himself along with you that everything will be alright.

You watch him open the door and gingerly blow him a kiss as he turns to wave goodbye. It’s a silly ritual the two of you started a few years ago, before you’d moved in with Elias. He insisted you spend time with him before each home game, which meant you wound up cooking dinner and making sure he drank enough water. To annoy him you started blowing him kisses as he left, and the tradition continued once his place became yours. Elias catches it with his left hand and blows one back.

Not much work gets done while Elias is gone. You’re too worried about him to focus on your proposal and end up with your eyes glued to the television as you watch the game. The Canucks desperately need a win, something you hope they can get so your best friend can be put back into the lineup. Your eyes zero on Elias every time the camera pans to him sitting in the rafters, and your heart breaks each time you see the defeated look in his eyes. It seems to have worsened since he left home.

The game does not go well for the Canucks. It’s as if the team isn’t communicating with one another on the ice, and a lot of passes don’t connect. Shots aren’t on goal either – you know Elias is fuming from within the press box. He feels responsible for the team’s deterioration even though he isn’t playing. You watch the rest of the game with furrowed brows and think of ways you could support Elias.

After sharing a space with him for almost an entire trip around the sun, you know Elias doesn’t like ‘grand’ gestures. He’ll hate if you draw him a bath, and besides, that’s not something roommates or best friends do for each other. That’s strictly reserved for romantic partners – something you’re sure you will never be to Elias. Ordering food is out of the question because he refuses to eat after nine-thirty, and sure it’ll be past ten before he walks through the door. You settle on warming up his favourite blanket in the dryer and making the both of you a cup of tea. If he wants to take them into his room to spend time alone and decompress that will be okay with you.

Your phone chimes from its resting place on the kitchen counter. Wondering if it’s a friend wanting an explanation to Elias’s absence from the game, you grumble on your way to the device. The notification is from Elias himself, and you open it with baited breath. You know he’s devastated and pray he’s only letting you know he’s on his way home, not sharing bad news.

Heading out now. Probably going to get stuck in traffic, got any sad song recommendations?

The message makes your heart break, but you respond with a playlist link that features your favourite songs to cry to. A short message is tacked on to the end to let him know you’re always ready to support him.

Hopefully this fits the mood. I’m here for you.

Elias’s response fills you with a small bit of hope.

I know.

You set your plan into motion, and finish pouring the boiling tea into your favourite mugs as the door opens.

“Hey,” you say tentatively, not sure what Elias’s mood will be like now that he doesn’t have to have his guard up. “I made you a cup of tea and there’s a blanket in the dryer that should still be pretty warm.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles, but it doesn’t make his words any less sincere. You can tell Elias is drained in every sense of the word by looking at him, and you decide you aren’t going to push him to talk tonight. The communication can come a bit later.

The blonde trudges down the hallway to the small room where you keep the laundry and reappears moments later wrapped in the plush navy blanket you had prepared for him. Elias doesn’t even bother to change, too exhausted to get out of his suit. You blow some of the steam away from his mug before picking it up and padding over to where he’s sitting on the couch. Elias takes the mug gratefully, and tries to smile at you in thanks. It comes out more like a grimace.

It’s silent as the two of you sit side by side, staring out the large window at Vancouver’s skyline. The absence of noise isn’t as unsettling as you feared but it still puts you on edge. You can tell Elias’s emotions are beginning to boil over, and you aren’t sure what to do about it.

“It’s my fault,” he says, voice small and fragile.

When you turn your head to see him, you’re met with two ice blue eyes brimming with tears. Your heart breaks for what feels like the hundredth time that night. “Elias, listen to me,” you urge, grasping his hands in yours. “The game wasn’t your fault. You not being on the ice did not cause the team to lose.”

Elias scoffs and rolls his eyes. For a split-second, hurt seeps into your bones, but you dispel it because you know he’s upset and didn’t mean to be so abrasive.

“Not the game!” he shouts, anger clearly winning the mental battle of what emotion to present. “The entire fucking season. We’ve played like shit all year and it’s my fucking fault.”

“Elias,” you say as calmly as possible, knowing it’s important for one of you to be rational. “You’ve consistently put up points all season, and you’re only going through a short dry spell. You pick up the slack where needed and try your hardest to succeed. You’re a damn good teammate and the best hockey player I know. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”

It’s then he breaks, collapsing into your wide open arms and sobbing. You hold him close to your chest, afraid that if you let him go he’ll disappear in front of your eyes. The sounds of his ragged breathing and your gentle encouragement bounce off the walls until all you can focus on is his heart rate returning to something in the ballpark of normal. Elias cries for an unknown amount of time and you don’t even bother to calculate it. He needed to let everything go – hopefully he can now turn the page on the past couple of months.

When he seems like he’ll respond again, you speak. “I know they put a lot of pressure on you, and I know that you’re a professional athlete, but what they’re doing to you isn’t right. E, you don’t deserve to feel like this, regardless of how you’re playing or where the team is in the standings.”

“I just don’t know what to do,” Elias hiccups. “Everything has become a lot lately, and it keeps piling up. It’s affecting my play, and I just want the team to be successful. I want to be successful.”

You wrap your arms around him tighter and card your hands through his hair. “You are successful, and don’t you dare let anyone tell you otherwise. I’m always available to talk, but if you’d like I can book you an appointment at the clinic and you can talk to someone who’s actually qualified.”

“You’re so close to being fully qualified,” he encourages, always wanting to make sure you matter too. “But that would be really nice. Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

That phrase had first confused Elias when you first directed it towards him, but he now understands it’s your way of saying ‘Of course. I’d do anything for you’. You rarely use the phrase with anyone else, and it makes him feel special inside.

Eventually you untangle your limbs from Elias’s, getting up to refill your mugs and insisting he change into clothing that’s more comfortable. He’s gone a lot longer from the couch than you are, and you begin to worry he won’t be reappearing. The creaking of a hinge wrangles you free from your thoughts. Elias pads back into the living room, dressed in a pair of ridiculously patterned pyjamas you had bought him two Christmases ago.

“Hey,” he practically whispers. “Can I tell you something?”

You do your best to keep the alarm you feel from appearing on your face. After the conversation you just had, his mind could be going in a million different directions. “Always,” you reply, volume matching his.

“If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if I’d still be playing hockey.” You make a sound of protest, but Elias doesn’t let you form it into a thought. “I’m dead serious. The night we met? I was a wreck. Sure, I was in the middle of a rookie season most players dream of, but I was so miserable. I cried every night on the way home from the rink and felt completely alone. You were the first person in Vancouver that didn’t expect anything of me, that still doesn’t. I’m so fucking thankful for you. I love you.”

Tears flow freely from your eyes and you raise the sleeve of your sweater to wipe them away. Elias isn’t one for heartfelt confessions – that’s much more your style. He shows his appreciation through random acts of kindness, so you deeply treasure his words.

“I love you too E.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand,” he insists. “I really love you. I don’t mean it platonically, and I never have.”

You’re sufficiently shocked. “Don’t say something you don’t mean,” you mumble, pushing off the couch to go hide in your room.

It’s Elias’s turn to grab your hand. His grip is gentle but still firm enough to let you know he isn’t going to drop the conversation.

“Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“Because,” you sigh, “You’re Elias fucking Pettersson. You’re the star centre of an NHL team and there’s a million other people better suited for you than me! Sure, I might be head over heels for you but we aren’t on the same level. I’m your best friend E, and that’s okay. I can live with that. What I can’t live with is you letting emotion get the better of you and confessing something that isn’t true. You’re grateful for my support, and I think we should just leave it at that.”

He shakes his head fervently. “This isn’t a spur of the moment decision Y/N,” Elias says. “I’ve been debating telling you for months, but the season kind of derailed my plans and got in the way. I love you.”

Before you can process the gravity of his words, Elias is pressing his lips to yours in an effort to show just how sincere he is. You falter for a split-second, shocked that this isn’t a dream – your best friend, who you’ve had a crush on for years, is in love with you and you’re in the process of kissing him – but you recover quickly. Kissing Elias feels like a long awaited homecoming. It’s as though you’ve found true peace, and nothing will ever be as good as your lips connecting. You lose yourself in him quite easily, and only focus to your surroundings when he pulls away to look in your eyes.

“So,” Elias sheepishly tucks a misplaced strand of hair behind your ear. “Think I could take you out, like on an actual date?”

You beam at him, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to his lips. “That can most certainly be arranged.”

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#god i want to be petey's roommate turned lover so bad #elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson fic #vancouver canucks imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites #hiiapl

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retvenkos · 4 years

Text

romantic at heart | m.

Legend of Korra - Mako x Reader, fluff

tw: none

word count: 4.6k

A/N: canon? who needs her? certainly not this fic. korrasami deserved to be canon earlier so i vaguely mentioned it, and mako and bolin’s apartment is the perfect setting don’t @ me.

Summary: Mako has always had bad luck when it comes to love, but with (Y/n), things feel easy. So why, then, is it so hard to admit it?

the three times he didn’t say it, and the one time he did.

one;

“I’m telling you guys, this is going to be great! Part Four is my favorite in The Adventures of Nuktuk: Hero of the South!”

Mako shared an amused look with (Y/n) as Bolin led the way into the darkened theater, holding open the door for the group to enter. Asami and Korra passed hand in hand, and when (Y/n) walked past Bolin, they tossed a piece of popcorn at him and Bolin caught it in his mouth.

Mako brought up the rear of the group, and as they walked up to find their seats, he whispered, “How many parts are there, Bo?”

“Seven! And the Finale’s great, don’t get me wrong, but it just doesn’t have the heart that part four does.”

“That’s just because he kisses Ginger,” (Y/n) leaned in and whispered to Mako, earning an incredulous “hey!” from Bolin.

“How’d that work out, by the way?” Asami turned to the earthbender with what sounded like genuine curiosity and Bolin chuckled nervously.

“Ah, well, you know, the hearts of mover stars are fickle, so we didn’t last long… there was something about it being a publicity stunt, but that didn’t make much sense, so…”

“Well it’s her loss,” Korra elbowed Bolin in the side with a smile and he forced a chuckle.

“She doesn’t deserve you, Bo.”

“Yeah, you’re a great mover star.”

A few people in the theater shushed them, and the group settled down into their chairs, just moments before the lights dimmed further and the mover started. The disembodied voice of Varrick boomed through the speakers with a recap of the previous 3 parts of the daring adventure, and everyone fell silent, slowly getting sucked into the mover before them.

Ever since their debut, the Nuktuk movies were a success - a staple of Republic City culture - getting replayed in theatres again and again. After learning that Mako hadn’t seen Nuktuk in its entirety, Bolin called for a state of emergency and got the whole group together so they could schedule a time for a complete rewatch of the seven-part masterpiece.

Mako had been planning to make some excuse - a series of cases that Beifong put him up to, or a slew of paperwork that some higher-paid coworkers pawned off onto him. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to miss something for work, and it wouldn’t be the first attempt at lying to get out of a viewing party. Just three months ago he narrowly avoided a showing of Love amongst the Dragons by faking sickness and saying that Beifong told him to sleep all day so he could be back at work the next. Everyone but Bolin believed him, and Bolin (who didn’t want to see it either but promised Asami he would go) let it slide.

After that, Bolin was better at guessing when Mako was lying, and whenever he needed Mako’s compliance, he set (Y/n) up to the task of cajoling Mako to come along.

So far, their track record had been impeccable.

(Y/n) chuckled at something they saw on screen, and Mako turned to them. “How many cases of Vari-dye do you think Varrick sold after that product placement?” They gestured to the screen where the once blonde Ginger flagrantly mentioned her hair dye product before becoming a, well… ginger. The script was somehow able to loosely tie the product placement into the plot, but the moment earned a couple of well-earned laughs throughout the theater.

“Millions, most likely. Aren’t these movers big in Ba Sing Se?”

“As comedies,” (Y/n) muttered, leaning in, clearly trying to keep their voice down so Bolin didn’t hear. The theater around them was dark and silent, but the light reflected in (Y/n)’s eyes was full of life and mirth. Mako found himself unable to look away.

He cleared his throat, “You do have to give it to Nuktuk and his comedic timing.”

“And Juji’s heart-wrenching death and subsequent resurrection.”

Mako found himself chuckling at their lame joke, and for once, he didn’t mind. (Y/n) smiled triumphantly, as though they had accomplished something truly grand, and angled their bag of popcorn towards Mako. He took some and popped a piece in his mouth, his laughter still dying on his lips.

“Varrick must be quite the director, to get you to laugh in a totally serious, not-a-comedy mover.”

“Varrick?” and there was just enough suggestion in Mako’s words to say all that he couldn’t, though why he couldn’t seem to get anything else out, he didn’t know.

Things were always easy with (Y/n); their smiles were soft and infectious, their tactics in getting him to open up were effortless and effective, and falling in love with them had been the most simple and uncomplicated thing in this world. It should have been with such ease that Mako told them that it was them that got him into the theater and their corny comments that made him burn inside, like a thousand dying comets that took the form of shooting stars.

But for some reason, he was stuck.

Unsurprising, really, Mako had never really had luck when it came to love and even friendship. There was always something complicating things; there were always two sides of him, fighting the other for reasons even he couldn’t fathom. Eventually, one of them would lose. Eventually, something would give.

But until that eventuality…

“I suppose I am quite the comedian. Should I write a screenplay?” (Y/n) was speaking, but something in their demeanor was different - a little stunned - like they hadn’t considered something before and it was only now dawning on them, slowly, but comfortably. Easy. “It would have to be a sequel to Nuktuk, of course. Maybe I can introduce the grumpy, mysterious fire-bender who he’s now forced to share a quest with?”

(Y/n) nudged him in the shoulder, already rolling their eyes at their own idea. Mako looked down, suddenly interested in picking the perfect piece of popcorn. “Yeah. If you’re making it, why not?”

(Y/n) snorted and turned back to the film.

two;

Taking the steps to his apartment two at a time, Mako fished for his keys in the pocket of his pants. Walking the beat had the potential to be more trouble than it was worth, and often Mako found himself at the gym at the end of the day, taking out his frustration the way he used to - pro-bending. Well, not so much pro-bending, anymore, seeing as they disbanded the Fire Ferrets, and dissolved the team, but it was the same training, nonetheless, and Mako had been a pro-bender so long that oftentimes, nothing felt more comfortable than the gym.

As he walked down the hall to his door - second on the right, Bolin had insisted - Mako could hear the sounds of laughter and the beeping of the oven. Despite himself, he smiled, breathing in deeply as he fiddled with the lock and opened the door.

Inside the tiny apartment, (Y/n) and Bolin were working side by side, leaning over the oven as they looked at the baked goods that lay within. The counters were a mess of cluttered ingredients and mismatched bake wear, Pabu had tracked flour across the carpet, and by every measure it was chaotic, but Mako simply leaned against the doorframe, speaking just loud enough to be heard. “Stress baking, again? Y’know, I’m really starting to regret giving you a key.”

"This was all Bolin, actually.” (Y/n) pulled the baking sheet out of the oven and set it down before turning to Mako with their usual countenance. “He told me to come over - he bought a set of mixing bowls and everything.”

“He didn’t buy more counter space?”

“Hey!” Bolin called incredulously through a mouth full of baked goods. Pabu scuttled beneath him, eating the crumbs that fell to the floor. “Counters wouldn’t fit.”

“It’s alright Bo,” (Y/n) nudged his arm with their shoulder, turning back to the task at hand. They used an old spatula to take their masterpiece off of the pan, and Bolin took two from them.

“You have to try this batch, Mako, (Y/n)’s gotten really good at their green tea cookies.”

“Oh?”

Mako shut the door behind him and walked over to the couch. (Y/n) met him halfway with their signature, light green cookie, Mako took it with an appreciative smile. “The secret is in the matcha. I wasn’t putting in enough before, so they didn’t taste right.”

Mako broke off a bit of the cookie, making sure to get a bit that had a white chocolate chip in it, and savored the taste. (Y/n) was watching him with one of their expectant smiles, and he nodded his head, the bittersweet flavor still lingering in his mouth. “These are your best yet.”

“High praise, coming from you.” And there was an edge of sarcasm to their voice, but their eyes were bright. Mako just looked at them for a moment, really looked at them in all of their casual beauty. (Y/n) had moved into his life so early on and so slowly that Mako didn’t know what life would be like without their casual teasing and easy grins.

And, of course, their random (but not unwelcome) bouts of stress baking.

Mako must have been staring a bit too long, because (Y/n) raised a playful eyebrow, and not too long after, Bolin broke the silence. “Uh, Pabu and I have to go, and uh... y’know, do adult stuff, with uh....”

“With Korra?” (Y/n) supplied amusedly, turning to Bolin, who was stuffing a napkin with cookies hurriedly.

“Yeah! Y’know, Avatar stuff...” Bolin shrugged, slipping out the door, only to open it up again and grab his shoes before shoving off again.

(Y/n) scoffed and Mako sighed, calling after him. “Real smooth, Bo!”

A muffled response called out to them, and (Y/n) laughed, walking back over to the kitchen area, where they started to put together another batch of cookies, measuring the sugar with their hands and putting it into a bowl with butter. “I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked out from noise complaints.”

Yeah, well Bolin charmed our neighbors into liking us too much to see us go.”

“His charm does go far, doesn’t it?” Mako watched and (Y/n) moved through his apartment with ease, pulling spoons out of the drawers and cleaning the dishes as they went. Their practiced movements had the surety and preciseness of someone who lived there, and the thought was enough to make Mako’s throat dry.

“So,” Mako cleared his throat and walked over to (Y/n) passing them the egg they were reaching for. “you measure everything with your hands, and yet you’re constantly insisting that baking is a science. How does that work?”

“It’s all in the weight and look of it - a full cup is a far cry from a fourth.” (Y/n) mixed the ingredients together, their brow set in concentration, “Or, at least, that’s what my mom used to say. What I will tell you—” they looked up at Mako rather suddenly, that intensity still alight within them “—is that it’s in how it feels.”

“So the weight of it.”

“Yes... but it’s more than that.” (Y/n) looked at him with their sharp eyes, as though trying to judge something. “Go wash your hands,” and they jerked their head to the side, “I’ll show you.”

Mako didn’t even hesitate to do as they said, and even though Bolin had left, he could hear his voice - a surprised “what...?” - nagging the back of his mind. It was easy to shrug off. It was (Y/n). Everything was easy when it came to them.

“Alright,” (Y/n) said, with a hint of childish excitement, as Mako slung the towel he had used to dry his hands over his shoulder. “Give me your hands.”

Their touch tickled and their fingers - dry and powdery from the flour - grazed over his, opening his palms with a gentle sort of care.

“Here is one cup or so.” (Y/n) grabbed a handful of flour, transferred it to their other hand, and skimmed some off the top before placing it in his. “Yeah, you can feel the weight, and you can see how much there is, but you have to kind of trust that what you're feeling is right, because it’s not always going to feel the same, right? When you’re tired or you’ve been baking all day, things feel different, even though they’re the same.”

“All this for flour?”

“For each cup of flour. We need two and a half.”

“I can see why Bolin asks you to do the baking.” (Y/n) chuckled and guided his hands to the mixing bowl, where Mako let the flour slip out of his fingertips like really fine sand. “But I can tell that you feel it...” the last bit of flour fell out of his hands, but Mako let his hands hover near (Y/n)’s for just a moment longer, “and that’s good enough.”

They smiled, and it has all the serenity and beauty of dawn. “I’ll make a baker of you, yet.” They added more flour to the bowl and started mixing, their gaze flicking up to Mako. “One of these days you’re going to understand the feeling of it.”

“I...” and part of Mako wanted to say that he already did, that his feelings were about the only thing he understood when it came to moments like these, but the words got caught in his throat, and he found himself unable to get them out. “I think we’ll have to do a lot more baking, then.”

three;

Mako ran, the ground beneath his feet steady and his breathing exact. The beauty of Republic City Park surrounded him and in the early morning, when the air was just nippy enough to need a jacket, there were few people to be found. The usual groups of people practicing tai chi or playing Pai Sho weren’t out yet, and the sun was just peaking over the horizon.

Morning runs often gave Mako a sense of clarity - there was very little he could focus on when in fast, forward motion, and everything complicated fell away. It was just him, the ground, and the fire in his veins.

Mako slowed to a jog, and when he found an empty park bench, he sat down, wiping the sweat off of his brow. The shadows were just starting to creep away, losing to the brilliance of the sun and hiding in each recess and tiny alcove. The duck pond in front of him was warming to a crystal-like blue. Mako breathed out and tipped his head back, letting the stillness wash over him, his thoughts slowly catching up with him.

“Mako?”

And at first, he thought it was just his feelings for (Y/n) meeting up with him once more, but then he heard the steady pounding of the pavement and there they were jogging toward him, ushering in the morning with a comfortable pace.

“Heading into work later than usual?” They stopped by the bench and Mako slid over so they’d have room to sit.

“No, Beifong told me to take a day off. I usually do paperwork today, but she handed it off to someone else.”

(Y/n) hummed in acknowledgement. “So you’re joining Asami and me for our run, then?”

"Huh?”

“Asami and I usually go on a run, at this time. We meet here.”

“Asami told me that I should take a run since I wasn’t going into work today.”

Both of them scoffed, relaxing deeper into the metal bench. For a moment they just sat there, taking in the moment, and letting the world dawn on them, a beautiful mixture of colors - a painting slowly completing itself. Eventually, (Y/n) turned to Mako, an eyebrow raised in jest. “Do you reckon they think they’re being slick?”

“Probably - and it’ll only get worse once they get Korra on board.”

“Who’s to say they haven’t already?” The two chuckled, shaking their heads at the efforts of their friends, and (Y/n) knocked their knees together, leaning in a little closer. “It’s alright, I like spending time with you.”

“You’re gonna hate me once we finish this run, though.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to buy me some tea, afterwards.” (Y/n) stood up, stretching their arms and letting out a yawn. “To make it up to me, of course.”

Mako stifled a smile and stood, making a show of his weary sigh. “Alright” —(Y/n) rolled their eyes at him— “You drive a hard bargain.”

They started off at a slow jog, and every minute or so Mako upped the intensity until they were sprinting across Republic City Park, occasionally dodging the wayward soul taking a morning stroll. The world blurred around them, the lush foliage turning into swaths of green with the occasional pinprick of color - purple or yellow, green or blue. As they slowed down, the world became more defined, and when they came to a walk, (Y/n) pulled ahead and turned around so they could walk backwards, facing Mako with a breathless grin.

“You owe me at least a muffin to go along with that tea, after what you just pulled. I almost ran into a woman walking her toddler! Could you imagine what would have happened, had I hit her?”

Mako laughed, still coming down from his high, and (Y/n) grinned at the sound - dazzling and so bright, it put the sun to shame. “Let’s get you out of the park, then, before you start running down Pai Sho players.”

The two fell into step beside each other, taking the path out of the park and into the busy streets. Already, Republic City was booming with life, and the two were rather quick to slip into the quiet tea shop that was just around the corner. Inside, the cafe was fairly empty, with slow music playing from the speakers. (Y/n) closed their eyes and breathed in the smell of freshly-baked muffins, and Mako was quick to look away when they caught him staring.

(Y/n) walked towards the case that held all of the baked goods, trying to read the different types they had displayed. “This is way better than trying to throw something together at my apartment.”

Mako pulled his attention away from the menu board, where he had been searching for the right type of tea. “Your apartment? You mean you actually have a place to go, other than mine?”

“You gave me the key.”

“For emergencies.”

(Y/n) scoffed. “Well, ‘emergencies’ is in clear need of a mutual definition.”

The two ordered, and Mako paid, despite (Y/n) saying they had the money, and when their order was ready, they took a seat in the corner, next to a window that overlooked a busy intersection. (Y/n) insisted they split the muffin and gave half to Mako, and after settling into their more calm atmosphere, (Y/n) turned to Mako.

“So, what are you going to do for the rest of your day off?” (Y/n) took a sip of their tea and fixed Mako with one of those stares - the kind that saw through everything else, and somehow got down to his core. “I can’t imagine this is what you had planned.”

“Uh… I don’t know. I figured I’d go home and work on finding a lead to a case or something.”

“Even though Beifong told you to take the day off?”

“Well, I’m not at the station…” Mako trailed off, suddenly finding great interest in the rim of his cup.

“And you’re not going to work from home, either.” (Y/n) scoffed exaggeratedly, and though Mako was the most incorrigible person they’d ever met. Although, in their defense, he probably was. “Not on my watch.”

“So what, you’re going to find something for me to do all day?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Mako watched as (Y/n) sat back in the booth, a triumphant yet challenging smile on their face, and he felt the disbelief in his chest melt into something softer. It was there, again, that urge to say something both incredibly brave and terribly stupid; that desire to put all of his feelings into words and express them more truly than anything else.

“Alright,” Mako swallowed and allowed himself a small smile. “If that’s what it takes.

✧ *:･ﾟ

one;

Just when Mako had admitted to (Y/n) that he was an avid reader, he couldn’t remember, but at some point, they had found out, and ever since, the two spent their lazy weekends sprawled out on his sky blue sofa, books in hand. This time, (Y/n) had come earlier than usual, and by midday, they had already finished their novel - a fast-paced murder mystery with just a bit of a redemption arc for one of the main leads. They had talked about (Y/n)’s book while walking down to the market to get the necessary fixings for dinner, and when they came back to Mako’s tiny apartment, he passed them one of his favorites to read - a historical fiction that combined elements of notable legends and recorded history to make an interesting thriller with plenty of easy-to-digest drama.

When (Y/n) took it from him, they took one look at the summary and raised an eyebrow. “This is one of your favorites?” Mako had tried to push down his embarrassment, stuttering out some kind of response, but had just smiled. “It’s not a bad thing, just surprising. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

And they did. For the next hour and a half, the two sat in Mako’s apartment in relative silence, reading separate novels and making the occasional exclamation of shock, betrayal, joy, and surprise. Mako had looked over at (Y/n) occasionally, trying to judge where they were in the book, and whether they were enjoying it just as much as he had, the first time.

At some point in the day, the sun filtering through the window matured into a deeper, golden shade, turning the afternoon into early evening. Mako, who had been thoroughly engrossed in his novel for the better part of the day, stood up from his couch and stretched when he noticed the change in light. Letting out a sigh, he made his way over to the kitchen area. As he started to make dinner for the both of them, Mako missed the way that (Y/n) turned to look at him from their place on the couch, a lopsided grin on their face. They still lay on the turquoise material, sitting upside down with their feet in the air, book in hand and the red couch cushion resting on their stomach, watching as Mako turned on the stove with a click of propane and a bit of fire bending.

It wasn't long before the apartment was full of the comforting smell of Mako's cooking, and soon (Y/n) found it impossible to focus on the page before them. They opted to right themself instead and watch Mako as he finished up, adding the finishing touches to the meal before splitting what lay in the pan into two different bowls.

He handed a bowl to (Y/n) as he settled onto the couch, both of them moving to sit cross-legged, their knees touching. (Y/n) savored the flavor of Mako's signature dish, and he gestured to the book beside them.

"How're you liking it so far?"

"The book? It's great. Perfectly paced, in my opinion, although I wouldn't mind for a little bit more world-building. The time period is so interesting and they could lean into it a little more."

Mako nodded, satisfied with the smile on their face and the eagerness in their tone. "I figured you'd like it. There's a lot happening, but the characters are good enough to carry the story."

"That's a raving review, coming from you." (Y/n) laughed, the sound falling from their lips effortlessly. "And I can see why it's your favorite. You like a good redemption arc, don't you?"

"It's an interesting enough idea."

"A rather sweet one, too. Are you sure you're not a romantic at heart?"

Mako scoffed in response, but even so, he could feel his cheeks burning up, the nagging voice in his head (the one that told him to just confess already, or do something equally as rash) getting louder from conviction. "I think that's you."

"Oh definitely, but there's always room for one more," (Y/n) mumbled through a mouth full of noodles. "And judging by your taste in books, I'd say you already are."

"There's not even a romantic subplot!"

"The main character literally took lightning to the face for his best friend, and then proceeded to say that he’d do it all again, if it meant they could stay together. Are you telling me there isn't something there?"

“You said yourself that they’re friends!”

“C’mon, Mako,” (Y/n) deadpanned, setting aside their dinner so that they could use their hands to punctuate their speech. There was a fire in their eyes, and something restless in the way they moved - like there was something important they were trying to say. “Friendship is clearly just an excuse for them.”

“An excuse?” Mako felt his throat dry. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of their proximity, and the little space that still existed between them - like they were almost touching, and yet oceans apart.

(Y/n)’s hands fidgeted in their lap. “Yeah, like… An easy out when you��re too afraid to go for it...or when you think you’re not enough.” Part of Mako wanted to look away, but (Y/n)’s eyes had caught his gaze too fully and the other part of him battled to stay. For the longest moment, he couldn’t move. “But they love each other - you can see it.”

There was a battle waging war inside Mako; each side fighting the other for dominance, and only one coming out on top. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost like a deep sigh. “Yeah, they love each other.”

(Y/n) smiled, their mouth moving with just the slightest tremble, and part of Mako wondered what had disrupted the ease with which they did everything, but another part of him already knew. Mako reached out and cupped their cheek, the feeling of their skin against his flooding him with courage he didn’t know he had.

“And I love you, (Y/n).”

“About time you confessed to me.” (Y/n)’s eyes sparkled in jest before they surged forward, kissing Mako and igniting the fire in his chest. All he could think about was them and the way they blissfully invaded all of his senses, how soft their lips were, and how strong their hands were, as they wrapped around him, pulling him nearer. When they broke apart, (Y/n) rested their forehead on his.

Then they said it, their voice a whisper that sent him tumbling over the edge, their breath fanning against his cheek.

“I love you, too.”

Mako kissed them again, craving the feeling of their lips against his, chasing after the way they made him feel - like every moment had led to this, like every battle had been worth the struggle. Time seemed to stop, and for a moment, it was as though there was no gravity, and the only thing anchoring Mako to this world was (Y/n), and their touch.

“Like I said,” (Y/n) was smiling when he pulled away, and their gaze made it easy to come back down to earth. “You’re a romantic at heart.”

Mako chuckled and (Y/n) laughed with him, the sound filling the tiny apartment with something undefined but utterly perfect.

“Alright, so maybe I am.” Mako relented, tipping his head back. “But an epic romance doesn’t happen within that book, if that’s what you're after.”

“Well, maybe we’ll have to write a sequel of our own."

-- taglist: message me if you want to be added to a taglist!

#legend of korra #lok #the legend of korra #tlok #mako #mako tlok #mako lok #mako x reader #mako x you #mako imagine #lok imagine #legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra imagine #fluff #reader insert #atla #gender neutral reader #and yeah you can measure flour and stuff with your hands i do it all the time don't @ me

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k-s-morgan · 3 years

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Hello! I came upon your Black Butler fic Those Gentle Slopes that Lead to Hell by accident a few weeks ago, and I just wanted to let you know I adore it. I first watched the anime when I was 13 (over 10 years ago now), and have since long fallen out of the fandom. Your story made me remember just exactly what I used to love so much about Black Butler and the dynamic between Ciel and Sebastian, so I wanted to thank you for that. If I'm not mistaken, I read that you plan to follow the anime in your story, including season 2. It made me curious what your thoughts are on season 2? Personally I rather disliked it when it came out, but I haven't rewatched it since. If you don't mind, I am curious to know your thoughts about it since you are able to put them so eloquently! Anyway, I am very curious to read how you will continue your story and how you will use the storyline of season 2 in it, I am sure that whatever you have in mind will be brilliant!

Once again thank you for your work, I really love it!

Hi! Thank you so much for your words, I’m so happy you liked this story! I have a lot of passion for it. And yes, I plan on following S2 - I absolutely love this season and consider it a love letter from Sebastian to Ciel! It has ellipses and missing words, sometimes missing sentences; some pages were left intentionally blank, but ultimately, it’s all about feelings. The whole premise is basically Alois wishing for Claude to destroy Sebastian, and Claude deciding to do that by taking Ciel from him. It’s pretty huge when you think about it. In addition, there is Sebastian wanting to prolong their contract and re-structuring everyone’s lives to accommodate Ciel’s amnesia, giving him another chance at revenge; being unable to kill him even after Ciel becomes a demon.

There were some elements I disliked, like heavy and inappropriate sexualization of Hannah - many characters suffer from it, but sometimes it felt like they created her for this very purpose. S1 was more dignified in this regard. But all in all, I enjoyed the season a lot.

I like Claude as a contrast to Sebastian. From how I see it, he is an actual normal demon: he’s cold, shallow, with no morality or interests other than eating something & getting power. Claude doesn’t care about Alois, he’s really just fulfilling his duties. Sebastian is actually living a life of a butler, going out of his way to please Ciel and earn his favor. Claude kills Alois without a second thought; Sebastian cannot bring himself to kill Ciel no matter how many times he has a chance to do so.

I’m in love with the ending. It’s fascinating that Sebastian actually allows Ciel to become a demon. He was told clearly that the moment Ciel wakes up, he’ll do it soulless. Rather than killing him on sight, Sebastian cradles him in his arms and waits. He attacks afterward, when it can’t actually hurt Ciel. Instead of still killing him, Sebastian goes along with the charade and keeps doing his butler duties. Demons can kill their masters without serious repercussions, we saw that on the example of Claude and Alois. Sebastian has every right to kill Ciel - more than that, he’s in direct proximity to the sword that can help him with this. And yet, he stays.

Ciel acts like he’s in control, Sebastian acts like he has to obey him, but they both know it’s a charade. It’s so palpable in the moment where Sebastian pretends to make tea and Ciel pretends to drink it. They try to stick to their routine desperately because they feel lost, confused, and scared. Ciel knows what could happen to him any moment - he saw what became of Alois. He could also tell Sebastian to leave him and start navigating his new life by himself, unburdened by anyone and anything. And yet he not only keeps Sebastian close, he actually makes an emphasis on Sebastian having to stay with him for all eternity! And Sebastian acts all miserable when he can make a decision to kill Ciel any moment, putting an end to their contract once and for all. Sebastian knows he doesn’t have to do anything anymore, but he can’t bring himself to kill Ciel to terminate their bond. He can’t face the idea of being invested in someone so much either, though, because this is it - he told himself countless excuses before to prolong the contract, but now there are no lies left. So he’s miserable and lost, going through motions and unable to make a decision, incapable of admitting he needs Ciel yet equally incapable of killing him. It’s such an open ending, but I find it extremely beautiful.

#my fics #sebaciel #black butler #s2

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drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

I Like Me Better

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from Anon: Hi! If you’re doing requests can I get a short fic based on the song I like me better by Lauv with Nestor🥺

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: language, lots of softness and pining

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: (I know I’ve posted this story like 5 times today alone. So sorry to everyone who has been getting bombarded with it while I figure out my posting/tagging issues. Love y’all and I owe you xo) This story definitely took on a life of its own once I sat down and started writing it. I love me some Soft Nestor and the whole “almost relationship” type of deal. Hope you enjoy!

General Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712

You were laughing as you watched snowflakes get stuck in Nestor’s facial hair and braids as he talked to you on the phone. Ever since you moved, the two of you had one weekly scheduled phone call, and one video chat. No matter what either of you were doing, you always made time for those two things. Even if for the rest of the week you didn’t really get to talk to each other, you always had those two things.

When Nestor said he was going to have to talk to you on the go before he called, you didn’t expect it to be quite so literal. You figured maybe he’d be driving, but wherever he was, he was walking, and it was snowing. He didn’t look thrilled about either of those things.

“I’m not made for the fucking snow,” he was trying to sound annoyed but you could see the laughter building up inside him.

“Good thing you didn’t move with me to New York then,” you laughed as you watched him brush snowflakes off of his eyelashes, “You’d never last out here.”

“Why would you voluntarily put up with this every year?”

“It’s pretty when you’re not being a baby about it,” you laughed, “Where did Miguel send you anyway?”

“Into the cold, that’s where,” he kept a serious expression for a moment before laughing.

“Next time you wanna experience the cold, come do it with me! My door is always open.”

“You’re the only person worth braving this shit for, Y/N,” he chuckled.

“Well,” you smiled at him from the warmth and comfort of your couch, “me and Miguel, apparently.” There was a knock at your door and you sighed, “Hold on a sec, I gotta grab that,” you got up and walked over to the door.

When you unlocked and pulled the door open, the phone dropped from your hands as you took in the sight of Nestor standing on your front step. You squealed, throwing your arms around him in a hug that swept you off the ground. He laughed as he held you tight against him.

He gently set you back down, making sure that your feet didn’t land in the snow on your steps, or on top of your discarded phone, “I told you, you’re the only one worth braving this shit for.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here!” without thinking better of it, you reached and cupped his face in your hands, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he was actually standing right there in front of you. He let out a slight shiver and it snapped you back to the situation at hand. You laughed as you waved him inside, “Shit, come inside. Get out of the cold.”

You grabbed your phone off the ground before you shut and locked the door behind the both of you, mind reeling from the fact that Nestor was at your house. You’d been back home to visit a couple times since you moved away, but he’d never made the trek to New York. You couldn’t blame him—you knew what his life with Galindo was like. You were surprised that he was able to be that far away from the family without it causing some kind of issue.

“What brings you out my way?” you took his coat from him and hung it up, chuckling as the snow fell off of it onto the floor.

“You,” he replied, looking up at you with a smile as he took his shoes off, “I wanted to see you, and not just through a phone screen.”

His words made your entire body feel warm. You motioned for him to follow you into the kitchen, nodding towards the counter for him to sit while you got the both of you a cup of coffee. He needed it more to warm up than anything else. He looked around your house with an approving smile. You’d given him the video tour after you had moved all of your stuff in, but it looked so much better in person. It felt so homey. Your walls were covered with photographs and artwork that you’d brought from home. Nestor smiled to himself when he saw that he’d made it up on the wall in a few pictures, along with the rest of your family and friends back in California.

You set the hug down in front of him, and he chuckled when he saw I ❤ NY printed on the side of it. He cupped his hands around it, letting the warmth seep into his fingers from the ceramic, “Fitting.”

You sipped from your own mug with a smile, “Gotta manifest it, Nes.”

The two of you existed in silence for a minute while he thawed out. You watched him as he looked around your small home. It wasn’t much, especially compared to the homes of all the people in his circles back in California, but it was yours and you loved it. You had never been someone who needed much. You just needed to feel comfortable and safe, and this house did more than just that for you.

You noticed him staring at the photos on the walls and the fridge, and you smiled. A little bit of weight settled over your heart as you watched him study them, knowing that he was looking at the ones of the two of you. It was all bittersweet to look back on. The two of you hadn’t ever dated, but you danced around the outskirts of it for a long time. There were times when the lines felt a little fuzzy, but nothing ever really happened. You were best friends, and you knew that he’d do anything for you, and you for him. But the timing was just never quite right, life was just never quite calm enough to try and make it work.

When you had told him that you had accepted a job offer on the other side of the country, he was trying so hard to be happy for you, but it wasn’t easy. You were a port in the storm for him, and he had no idea what he was going to do without you around. But he was supportive. He helped you pack, scrolled through apartment and housing listings with you, and found the best deal on a plane ticket. He never let you see how much it had hurt him—those were feelings that he processed in private. He’d thought about coming out to visit you every day since you left, but he worried that if he did, he wouldn’t come back home.

Before either of you could spiral too far into the past, you spoke up with a smile, “So, how long are you in town for?” he didn’t have any bags, so you assumed that he couldn’t be in town for long.

“I’m not sure,” he rested a hand on the back of his neck, “Told Mikey I needed to take some time. And this was the first place I thought to come to.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise—work had always been a priority for Nestor. Miguel was at the forefront of his decisions, always. “Really?” you raised your eyebrows, “You…you can take a leave of absence with…what you do?” you couldn’t quite wrap your head around it.

He shrugged, “Apparently,” he chuckled, “He said alright. So, here I am.”

You could feel that it wasn’t what he wanted to talk about, so you let the topic drop, “Well, you know you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you want to. Although your lack of luggage is a little concerning.”

He laughed, “Got lost in the shuffle. Airline said they’ll mail it here.”

You shook your head, unable to contain your laughter, “Damn, that sucks. Welcome to New York.”

You were on the opposite side of the counter from him, leaning forward onto it, propped up by your elbows. The two of you started to catch up about things that slipped from your minds when you called each other. He told you about some of the chaos that he wasn’t allowed to say over an unsecure phoneline. You listened intently, fighting the urge to reach out and entwine your fingers with his. Everything felt so right with him there with you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled as he took another sip of his coffee, “I don’t mean to do all the talking. I’ve just…I’ve missed having you to talk to.”

You nodded, “I know the feeling,” you drummed your fingers on the surface of the counter, “Well, now that you’re here, normally I’d say we should go do touristy things. But something tells me you’ve had your required dose of snow for the day?”

He laughed, “What’ve you got in mind?”

You shook your head, “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. I’m sure you’ve had a long enough day. We can camp out at least until your luggage gets here. Or I can take you shopping, whichever you prefer.”

He smiled at you, “I think I’m alright with staying in.”

“That’s what I figured,” you chuckled, “Well, I was not expecting company. I’m assuming you’ll be alright with ordering in?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I know this really great Chinese place. Their wonton soup is…perfection.”

The two of you made your way to your living room and sprawled onto the couch. You leaned up against Nestor’s side as you got your phone out to place the order. You picked a few things that you wanted to eat before handing it to him so he could pick stuff as well. While he was looking through the menu, you turned on the television and pulled the blanket off the back of your couch so it covered the both of you.

Nestor handed your phone back to you so you could place the order. He’d hardly noticed how you tucked the both of you in. He smiled as he rested his arm against your side, hand brushing lightly against your stomach.

“Is this…”

“I decided last week that I was going to rewatch all of Law & Order SVU from the very beginning,” you laughed.

He shook his head with a laugh, “Do you have a moral objection to happy shows or…?”

“It’s a good show!” you snuggled into him a little more.

“What has New York done to you?”

You smiled and shook your head, “Given me time to do shit like this.”

“You like it here though?” his eyes were watching the television, but one hand was gently massaging circles into the side of your neck.

“Yea, I do. It’s a nice change of pace—I think it was the right move for me,” you glanced up at him and smiled, unbelievably happy about the fact that he was really laying on your couch in New York with you. Never in a million years did you think that would happen.

Once the food got there the two of you switched up your positions a little bit. The TV was still on but neither of you were paying attention to it. You were each sitting cross-legged facing each other on the couch. You were laughing as you watched him fumble with his chopsticks. You had forks, obviously, but it was a matter of pride whenever you two ate together because he knew that you were extremely good at using them and he didn’t want to be left out.

“Almost two years since we got Chinese together and you didn’t use any of that time to teach yourself how to use chopsticks?”

He chuckled as he struggled with his noodles, “Didn’t make it to the top of my priority list, I apologize.”

“I’ll teach you before you leave. Way better than taking back a cheesy souvenir,” you smiled at him as you picked up a piece of chicken.

As the night wore on, your coffee table became covered in takeout food boxes, and a couple empty bottles of wine that the two of you had managed to drink your way through. You were sprawled across his lap, wine glass lightly hanging from your fingertips as you rambled on about what you had been up to since you moved. Nestor couldn’t take his eyes off of you, soaking up the fact that he was able to be so close to you.

“I’ve missed you,” you veered off your current story completely as you felt the warmth from his hand soak into your leg.

He looked at you, laughing quietly at the sudden admission, “I’ve missed you too.”

“Were you ever mad at me for leaving?”

He shook his head, no hesitation in his answer at all, “Of course not,” he studied your face, the way your skin glowed whenever you drank, the way your eyes got a little glassy when you had more than just one glass of wine, “Doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, though.”

You hummed in quiet contentment as he reassuringly rubbed his hand up and down your leg, “I think about you all the time.”

His hand stilled for a moment and you were afraid that maybe you were saying too much. Maybe the reason that things worked so well was because everything was in limbo. Before you could worry too much he gave your leg a light squeeze, “I think about you too.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, resituating yourself so that your head was resting against his chest. It was hard to focus on much of anything when all you could think about was the way your body was pressed up against his. The steadiness of his breathing felt like the only thing that was still grounding you. Your entire body felt warm from the wine, but deep down you knew it was more than just that.

“If you’re tired,” he spoke up after a few minutes of silence, “you can go to bed. Don’t exhaust yourself on my account,” there was a smile on his face.

You stretched, fighting back a yawn, “Come with me,” you sat upright and looked over at him, “I won’t lie to you, my guest room is empty because I have been putting off buying furniture for it,” you chuckled, “And my bed is way more comfortable than the couch, believe me.”

“Yea,” he nodded, his voice soft as he bit back a laugh, “okay.”

He followed you up the stairs and into your room, looking around the house as he did. It was hard for him to wrap his head around what your life was like now that you were so far away from everything that you had grown up with, everyone you had grown up with. It seemed like you had created such a cozy little life for yourself, and it couldn’t help but to think that you might never have had that if you hadn’t taken the plunge to move across the country.

“Don’t mind the clothes,” you apologized as you flicked on the light to your bedroom, “I promise they’re clean—I just hate folding laundry.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “It’s fine.”

You changed into a baggy long-sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts, immediately crawling underneath your blankets. You nestled back against your pillow and looked over at Nestor, who was unbuttoning his shirt, eyes cast down at the floor.

You were lying on your side, scrolling on your phone when you felt the mattress dip as Nestor climbed into bed beside you. He pulled the blanket up over himself and rolled onto his side so he could look over at you. You looked up from your phone, a smile starting to take over your features as you took in how close he was to you. You set your phone off to the side and rested your cheek against the palm of your hand.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” you said with a laugh.

“Give it a couple days,” he joked, “Soon you’ll be begging for me to go back home.”

You snuggled closer to him, resting your face against his chest, “I doubt it.”

You woke up the next morning to the feeling of Nestor’s arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you snug against his chest. Taking a slow, deep bre ath you took in the fact that this was really happening. He shifted slightly, arms squeezing you for a moment before he settled back into his sleep. The selfish part of you never wanted him to go home because you would love to wake up like this every morning. The warmth trapped underneath the blanket made you forget about the fact that there was a considerable amount of snow covering the ground outside.

You let your eyes close again as you focused on the steady beat of his heart. You slowly slid your legs and tangled them up with his. A few moments later you felt his fingers sliding lightly up and down your back. You glanced up at him and smiled when you saw that his eyes were still closed, but there was a peaceful smile on his face. You don’t ever remember seeing him so calm, so relaxed.

“Good morning,” he mumbled as he pressed his hand flat against your back, pushing you against him.

You chuckled as you rested your hands against his chest, “Good morning. You sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” he finally opened his eyes, “like a fucking rock,” he laughed.

You smiled up at him, “Good.”

The two of you laid there, soaking up the quiet peacefulness of the morning. You hadn’t woken up wrapped up in someone’s arms in a very long time, and there was something about the clinginess of Nestor’s grasp that told you he was in the same boat. You smiled to yourself as you felt his fingers lazily massaging between your shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come visit sooner,” he said.

You pulled back away from him so you could get a better look at his face, “You don’t have to be sorry—I know your life doesn’t make it easy. It’s hard to find the time.”

“I should’ve made the time.”

“Nes, don’t—”

He cut you off as he shook his head, “I’m not trying to make excuses. I know that I should’ve come out to see you. I just, I knew that it was going to be hard to convince myself to go back home once I did. I like me so much better when I’m with you,” he gently cupped your face in his hand.

You rested your hand over his, “Well, I like you all the time,” you smiled, “And no matter what, I’ll always be here whenever you need a break to recharge and get away from everything for a little while. But listen,” you waited for him to look at you, “don’t spend all of your time here thinking about the fact that you think you should’ve made it out here sooner. None of that matters. You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

He rested his forehead against yours, “See? That’s what I mean—how am I supposed to go back home after that?” you could see the hint of a smile on his face.

You laughed, “Just remember how much you hate the snow. Short vacations out this way will be just right for you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Yea, maybe.”

You gave his hand a light squeeze, “C’mon, let’s go make breakfast and see if your luggage will come in today or if I get to take you shopping.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, “Can’t wait for that.”

You flung the blanket off the both of you and hopped out of bed. Walking around to Nestor’s side, you held out your hands and pulled him up, laughing as he exaggeratedly stumbled into you and wrapped you in a hug. Your laughter was muffled against his chest but he reveled in the way it all felt.

While you were measuring out grounds into the coffee maker, you saw Nestor out of the corner of your eye looking through your fridge, trying to see what he could salvage to make breakfast with. You smiled to yourself as you set the pot to brew. You leaned back against the counter and watched him pulling things out from the drawers of your refrigerator.

“Playing chef today?” you asked with a smile.

“Better me than you,” he laughed.

You feigned offence, “Excuse you, I am an amazing cook.”

He smiled as he set everything out on the counter, “You are, but I’m better.”

“But I’m better,” you mocked with a laugh, “Cocky.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“How long did you say you were staying again?” you laughed.

“At least until I learn how to use chopsticks,” he chuckled as he looked through your cabinets for a frying pan, “So it might be a while.”

You couldn’t make yourself take your eyes off him, “Good.”

He heard the softness in your tone and looked over at you from his food prep on the counter. He smiled, tilting his head slightly as if to ask if there was something that you wanted to say. You shook your head with a small smile before walking over and wrapping your arms around his middle, the side of your face resting against his back. You didn’t know how long he was going to be staying, but you knew that regardless you were going to be making the most of it.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

there for you

summary: your best friend Bowen can’t help but draw some connections between you and your favorite show.

word count: 2k

warnings: heavy spoilers for New Girl. like, its basically the premise of the fic

note from the writer: here’s a link to a tweet with the scene im talking about in this fic, its from the episode “Oregon” (season 4 ep 16). shoutout to @bqstqnbruin for finding it for me

Bowen had long since stopped asking to come over before showing up on your doorstep. Usually, he’d send a ‘are you home?’ text to make sure you were around, before heading to your apartment for whatever reason he had in mind.

The latest text had come in twenty minutes ago, so you knew he was going to show up soon.

Like clockwork, you heard a knock on your front door and Bowen greeting your roommates before your bedroom door opened. He was grinning, wide as ever, and you opened your arms for a hug from your position laying in bed, under the covers and in the middle of a New Girl marathon.

“Scoot over.” Bowen grins, barely giving you enough time to react before dropping on top of you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You paused the show, not wanting to miss anything despite being on your third rewatch.

You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was beating. If he knew just how much his touch affected you, how many feelings you were harboring from him.

“What’s up?” You asked, pushing away any thoughts about your massive crush on your best friend as you tried to get to the bottom of why he showed up out of the blue. It wasn’t the first time he had done so, but he always had a reason.

“I wanted to see you. Practice was rough.” He mumbled in the crook of your neck. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, how they fell past his lips so easily. Those words made you think that maybe your feelings weren’t so one sided, that there was a chance for you to be even happier than you already were with your best friend.

“You’re going to make me blush.” You teased, downplaying the fact that he really did manage to fluster you. Bowen snorted, squeezing you tightly once more instead of responding to your comment. An easy moment of silence passed, one that wasn’t stifling or awkward and it reminded you once more just how much you enjoyed being around Bowen. Subconsciously, one of your hands threaded through his hair. “I like it when your hair is longer like this.”

Your words were punctuated by a tug on his roots and though he didn’t say anything, he hummed contentedly. You worried that maybe he’d be able to hear the hammering of your heart or he’d know that the smile on your face wasn’t because of your platonic love for him. You feared that he would know—know how much you loved him and know that you had been hiding your feelings for so long. But you couldn’t let yourself think too much about that, you couldn’t let yourself overthink and ruin one of your closest friendships, so you tactfully changed the subject.

“Are we napping or watching my show?” You asked, though you had a pretty good idea what his answer would be.

“Nap, please.” He mumbled, and you could never deny him, especially when he was acting so sleepy and adorable, so you agreed easily. You both shifted your positions slightly, you trying to find the comfiest spot and him climbing under the covers with you, but eventually you both melted into your mattress, Bowen’s head still buried in the crook of your neck.

Bowen tried to stay awake a little longer; to tell you about his morning and the practice he had just come from that had drained his energy completely. But before long, his words were slurring together and when he stopped mid sentence, you knew he had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around you and your fingers carding through his hair.

You tried to stay up too, to relish in the feeling of being in his arms. But you knew that pretending like it meant something more than it did was only going to break your heart more, so soon after he dozed off you closed your eyes and followed suit.

You were the first one to wake up, a combinatin of Bowen’s weight on you becoming slightly uncomfortable and the need to use the bathroom, so you did your best to climb out from underneath him without waking him. You thought you had made it out clear, but the moment your feet hit the floor Bowen was stirring from behind you.

“Where are you going?” He mumbled, causing you to halt your movements. It was far from the first time you had heard his gravelly voice just after he woke up, but it never failed to make your heart race. You swore you could listen to him talk forever, which was a good thing, since he never seemed to be able to stop talking.

“Bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You told him, finally standing to your feet. When you turned back around, Bowen was already watching you with tired eyes that made your heart clench. God, you were so gone for him.

You slipped out of the room without saying anything more, not trusting yourself to not blurt out just exactly how his smile made you feel. When you returned, he was sitting up against your headboard, your laptop open on his lap as he queued up the episode you had been watching before he arrived.

“New Girl again?” Bowen teased when he spotted you enter the room. You playfully rolled your eyes at him, climbing back into your spot beside him on the bed. You mirrored his position, though you dropped your head against his shoulder.

“It’s a good show. Plus, Jess and Nick’s relationship is my favorite.” You told him decidedly, like you had a dozen times before. The relationship between Jess and Nick truly was somehting you strived for—friends that were always in love with each other, no matter the problems that arised and even when they were broken up they did their best to keep the other happy.

“Fair enough.” He chuckled, shifting slightly so that his arm was around you and he could hold you closer to his side. “What episode are we on?”

“Oregon.” You started, knowing you’d have to catch him up on more than just the episode name. “Jess, Cece, and the guys go to Portland because Jess’ dad is getting married. Jess’ boyfriend, Ryan, was supposed to show up but since he lives in England he said it wouldn’t make sense for him to be there. So, Nick’s trying to make Jess feel better because he secretly loves her and I just need them to get back together.”

“Don’t they end up together though?” Bowen asks, trying to recall as much about the show as he could. It might not have been one of his personal favorites, but he knew you loved it, so that was enough for him to try and follow along.

“Yeah, but they aren’t right now.” You confirm. Before Bowen could ask anymore questions, you pressed play on your laptop and continued where you left off. Jess and the group had just arrived at her childhood home, only to find her mom ready to greet Ryan, who wasn’t there. The scene played on, with Nick telling Jess the hard truth that Ryan bailing wasn’t okay.

You could feel Bowen’s eyes on you as the scene changed to Nick comforting Jess in her room. Giggling at the Jordan Catalano joke, you tried your best to focus on the screen and not the piercing blue eyed gaze that seemed to be studying your face. And, like you always did when you got to this scene, you bit your lip to supress a grin as Nick delivered his next line.

“The only thing that matters is that the guy is there for you when you need him. Otherwise, you’re dating a wall.”

“Are you even paying attention, Bow? That’s like, my favorite line. What I wouldn’t give to have someone love me the way Nick loves Jess.” You sighed, settling further against Bowen as the episode continued on. He didn’t say anything in response, other than a quiet hum, but for the rest of the episode you could practically hear the gears turning inside his head as he turned his attention to the screen.

Netflix automatically continued on to the next episode, but as soon as the intro started Bowen’s hand shot out and paused the show. You looked at him curiously; the two of you usually got through at least a couple of episodes whenever you hung out like you were then.

“You know…” Bowen started, trailing off before he finished his thought. He wasn’t meeting your gaze, and it was clear that what he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue so you stayed silent while he found his words. “I’m always there for you.”

You felt your heart stop beating and skip three beats all at once. You weren’t sure where he was going with his train of thought, but if you had to guess you would be getting your hopes up. Because there was absolutely no way that he felt the same for you that Nick does for Jess.

“Yeah, you are…” You breathed, trying to get him to meet your gaze but instead he stayed focused on your comforter pulled over both of your laps. The hand that wasn’t around your shoulders was toying with the fabric, and in a bid to calm him down enough to get him to say what he needed you slipped your hand into his. Bowen drew in a steadying breath and finally met your gaze, a dozen and one emotions swirling behind his eyes.

“I love you, you know.” He said firmly, like there was no question about it in the slightest and not the very words you had been dying to hear from him for years. You nodded, unable to form words but not wanting to leave him hanging.

You supposed you did know that he loved you. He showed it in his blatant affection and the frequent texts about how his life was going. He cared for you, there was no doubt about it, but you had never let yourself believe that he meant anything more than friendship. And now he was offereing everything you’d ever wanted on a silver platter.

“Bowen,” You started, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him just how much you loved him back. Instead, you moved the hand that wasn’t wrapped up in his to rest on Bowen’s jaw, turning his head just slightly so that you could press your lips to yours in a long awaited kiss that stole your breath.

Kissing Bowen felt so much better than what you imagined. The angle was a little odd and your neck was craned to face him, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You’d share a thousand more awkwardly positioned kisses if it meant you got to be with Bowen.

You were the first to pull away, but you didn’t move far, wide grins on both of your faces as you took in the events of the past few moments. Your friendship was definitely changed, and in place was a relationship that you had been hoping for.

“I love you, too.” You finally mumbled. You wanted to tell him how you had loved him from the moment you met, how he made you fall in love with him with each and every day, but for the moment all that mattered was he knew you loved him just the same as he loved you.

“I hope, or else this is going to be awkward.” He mumbled playfully, leaning in again to close the distance between the two of you. You couldn’t help but chuckle against him, your hand slipping from his jaw to curve around the back of his neck in order to deepen the kiss.

Bowen was the Nick to your Jess, and not a day went by that you weren’t greatful for him.

#bowen byram #bowen byram fic #bowen byram imagine #bowen byram x reader #Colorado Avalanche #colorado avalanche fic #Colorado Avalanche x reader #Colorado Avalanche imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey x reader

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.

Titans 3.06

y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!

as always, typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?

... oh, i’ve just started.

1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick.

1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)

i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is.

(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)

2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!

2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.

2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in!

(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)

2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.

3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point.

(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)

3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.

(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)

3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:

a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth.

b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!

c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it?

d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really.

e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.

also:

*pinches his cheeks*

3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it.

i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.

3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!

4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well.

anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable.

when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...

4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!

5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.

5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?

why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?

5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.

5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.

5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.

6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...

(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)

6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.

6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...

7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.

7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY

8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something.

like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia.

8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.

8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)

9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”

honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.

MY MAN CONNER

10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!

a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.

b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole.

c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.

d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan. we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.

e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.

f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room

i need, crave gifs of this scene!

11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!

12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!

(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)

12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING

13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3

13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1

13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.

14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.

15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.

15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!

16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?

whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.

17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?

17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change.

18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?

18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents.

there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.

but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it.

18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.

19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #koriand'r #barbara gordon #garfield logan #conner kent #komand'r #jason todd #jonathan crane #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart #a tragic jalebi #this is a 3k+ MONSTER yikes

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seokustic · 4 years

Text

➝ three months into working for min&kim, coming across the forged company audit is the last thing you’d want in your plate. and min yoongi isn’t convinced that you’d keep your mouth shut.

➝ yandere!ceo!yoongi x secretary!reader

➝ 2 242 words

➝ warnings: dub-con, blackmail, coercion, unprotected sex, stockholm syndrome

➝ author’s note: read the warnings. don’t proceed if those elements make you uncomfortable.

―

“please, i won’t tell anyone,” you can taste the fear on your tongue as you gaze into yoongi’s unbending eyes.

“i understand i’m not in any position to make demands but please let me go home and i’ll forget this ever happened,” words of desperation and submission leaves your lips faster than the ‘sorry’s you owe every possible colleague that works under you.

“self-aware. i like that,” he husks, tossing the sleek black blazer of his onto the couch as he begins to undo the buttons of the cuffs around his wrists, “no wonder namjoon’s eager to keep you to himself.”

at the mention of that name, a bleached blonde haired man with the kindest dimpled smile flashes at the back of your mind. you remember shooting up from your seat and bowing as he passed by you whilst words of “have a good evening, mr. kim,” leaves your pretty wine red coated lips.

‘will i be able to meet him again?’

the thought chills you to your bones.

‘why wouldn’t i meet namjoon again?’ you internally laugh. if it was an audible one, it would have sounded pathetic yet hopeful.

to think you’re worrying about the future when your present is shriveled with uncertainty.

you watch as the man he calls his brother and partner amble towards you with leisure but dominating steps. like a hunter sizing up his prey.

if yoongi was black leopard, you’d be a white little bunny who’s trapped between the recliner and the glass desk, unable to move even though you’d spot him in your line of sight.

“i-is it money you want?” the words slip past your lips before you can even register them.

when you’re mentally hitting yourself for asking the co-owner of the firm you’re working at if he wants what little savings you have in your account, yoongi is already chuckling. it sounds melodic for someone who looks like he’s about to eat you alive.

“you and i both know i’ve got more money on my wrist than you do in your account.” he stops in front of you, feet wedged between your heeled ones.

as if on cue, the rolex on his wrist glints. as if mocking you as he pulls open the top most drawer, pulling out a miniature tripod with a phone readily attached to it. all you can do is continue to watch as he unlocks the screen.

the sound of you sucking in a sharp breath is the only thing that fills the silence when you see yourself reflected in the square frame. the time played over your wide-eyed gaze begins at 00:00:01.

“oh, that? don’t mind that. i like to look back at the time we’re about to spend together and... reminisce.” he wears a smirk on his face and pushes the hem of your dress up with his hand.

yet the billion dollar smirk you’d be dying to see and would fawn over with krystal from afar now makes your stomach knot with disgust. your heart’s palpitating but the sweat trickling down the side of your face is cold.

“please,” your head shakes, as if that little gesture could touch his heart and make him stop what he’s doing.

the metallic sound of his belt clicking as he undoes it drums it your ears, “get on the desk, sweetheart.”

when silence and your disbelieving stare is all he gets as a response, yoongi’s voice rises higher than the usual smooth, husked tone you’re used as he passed you and bade you good morning these past three months since you started working and min&kim.

“fucking do it!”

you scamper to hoist yourself over the flat surface of the table. both your ass and palms feel ice cold against the glass material.

“spread your legs.”

the tip of your heels teeter on the edge of the desk as you force your legs apart, gaze thrown to the pen holder on the opposite side of where the camera phone is set to capture every angle of your disgraceful position.

a whimper escapes your mouth when you feel something touch you through your panties.

“i must say, i didn’t peg you for a lace girl, ___.” gone is the rage in his voice once you did what he asked and in its place, a deep, appreciative purr. as if it’s supposed to be a compliment.

“won’t you even look at me?” he sounds almost devastated, as if your silence and refusal physically hurts him.

“look at me!” he roars a second later, giving you no time to ponder nor prepare yourself for it.

you meet his gaze with furrowed brows and bitten lip, trying hard not to show how much they’re trembling.

“pretty,” he holds you by your jaw, turning your face to the left and then right, as if conducting some kind of observation, “if only i didn’t take rose as my secretary... we would’ve had so much fun, you and i.”

“i can ask to be transferred here! i’ll keep your secret. just please... don’t do this.” gaze boring into his with sheer disgust while you beg with desperation while the cold nips on your exposed legs.

at your words, his hand seems to stop just millimeters from your clit. as if he’s truly considering the offer. the heart that blooms with hope gets crushed in that same instant as a smile stretches across his face.

“you really think you’re in a position to be negotiating?”

nimble fingers pulls your panties to the side before you feel his digit teases you, “sweetheart, you’re dripping wet.”

as if only realizing the juices leaking down your ass and the full view he has, your legs start to close, only to be tightly gripped by his free hand. you wince. that’s going to leave a bruise.

but before you can think of what excuses you’d use to wear skirts longer than your usual mid-thigh ones, the sound of the zipper grazing as it gets pulled down - brushes your eardrums.

“no, please! i promise i’ll do anything! everything you want! just please! don’t!” s series of pleas pour out of your lips like a broken tap. you don’t realize you’re crying until yoongi’s tall, lean figure becomes blurred from the tears.

“shhh,” he coos, sweet as honey but pushes himself in to the hilt.

the sigh the leaves yoongi’s lips makes your stomach twist.

‘how can he enjoy this?’

your palms clasp over your face and eyes as tears wet your skin. your back is cold as you lose all energy to hold yourself up. your body shifts upwards with every thrust.

but it’s the way he slides right into you that burns you with self-loathe. the way the discomfort you felt in the beginning gradually morphs into flames of wonton as you taste blood in your mouth, biting on your lower lip as hard as you can to not make a sound.

because you’re not sure if it’s a plea for him to stop or a plea for him to fuck you harder that will come out.

and you silently sniffle as yoongi turns you on your side, bent over to hold your body that’s wrecked with sobs and pleasure. the groans that brush your ear sickens you to your stomach but makes you clench around him harder as you near your climax.

“don’t be shy, moan for me, sweetheart,” he says grunts, tugging on your wrist as if trying to get you to stop covering your face.

as if he wants to see you break. see the tears cascading down your cheeks. see the shamelessly pleasured face you’re making as your heart beat to the staccato of his thrusts.

“stop...” you whimper, “stop, please, don’t- stop- ah! oh!”

“what’s that? don’t stop?” he laughs, “i’m not wearing a condom though. you sure you want me to but a baby inside you?”

“fuck, just like that. yeah- yoongi-ah right there- oh!”

you should’ve kept your mouth shut. because once the moans pour out of your lips like an open floodgate, there’s no stopping the salacious sounds from filling the room.

you don’t even realize yoongi pushed you to lay on your back again. don’t even realize how your legs clench around his waist whilst your ankles lock together on his lower back as he fucks you raw like he’s never fucked a woman in a long time.

you don’t even realize your lipstick smudging that area on his shoulder as you bite into his flesh, unable to take the surge of ecstasy coursing through your veins before a scream scratches your throat, your back arching as you see stars behind your eyes.

the warmth of his cum spreads through your lower belly as you lay limply on the desk, muscles still twitching from the sparks of electricity of your after orgasm. your legs dangle off the edge of the desk, still parted and in full view of the cum that pours out of you and onto the carpeted floor.

it takes you what feels like hours to push yourself up. gather your broken pieces, put your panties back on and pat down your skirt, feeling the warm, sticky cum drip down your legs and soils your skirt.

the heat of yoongi’s gaze digs into your pores. even when you’re all dressed up like the way you first walked in and saw the open email of the files of the unaudited expenditure of the firm’s income and the forged one. underneath the email, signed victoria song, the head accountant.

“come on, i’ll drop you home.” he says, the blazer he tossed now draped over his arm.

it’s as if he didn’t just smirk as he rewatched the first few seconds of the video. the sound of your desperate pleading commanding the silence while you laid like a lifeless corpse on the desk, trying to make sense of what just happened.

he’s acting as if nothing happened.

“i’ll take catch a cab,” you send your thanks to the gods for venom in your voice and the glare in your gaze.

“i said,” his husks, ever so gently with a threat that he will have no problems executing, “i’ll take you home.”

the whole ride is silent save for the sound of your sniffles yoongi pretends not to hear.

how gentleman-ly of him.

when the car rolls to a stop in front of your apartment building, you meet his gaze with round, terrified eyes. heart palpitating uncontrollably as he smiles like he’s dropping off his girlfriend after a date.

“how do you know where i live?”

you were too busy wiping away stray tears and gazing out the window to worry about giving him directions.

supposed he doesn’t need it after all.

yoongi doesn’t answer. he dodges it as smoothly as he dives in for a kiss. you recoil, pushing yourself up against the door and as far away from him before realization hits you like a pang of ice cold water in winter.

the glint in yoongi’s eyes is telling enough that he isn’t pleased with the trick you just pulled.

even if it was no trick at all. even if you truly only want to leave.

but there’s a video of you in a phone stored inside his desk 20 minutes from here. and you’d be a fool to think he didn’t airdrop it to his personal phone when he was rewatching the video after that.

who knows how long it’ll take for it to hit the internet if you so much as piss him off more than you do now.

the answer is a no brainer.

in a matter of seconds, min yoongi could ruin your life and rebrand you as a licentious woman who sleeps her way to the top.

those pleas for him to stop?

easily overridden by the way you clung onto him like you don’t want to let go.

“sorry, i was just... surprised,” you blink back the tears, lips curling into one of your professional smiles, heart thumping at the way his expression lightens into a pleased one at your own change of expression.

with a trembling hand, you touch his cheek. it feels soft under your fingertip. you wonder how it’ll look if you’d graze it with your fingernails.

your lips brush his and your stomach knots in discomfort. he deepens the kiss, pulling you by your hair, tongue slipping past your lips, tasting the fear that lingers like an unspoken truth on your tongue.

but it’s the way your arms involuntarily wrap around yoongi’s shoulders, kissing him back without even a word of command - that’s what makes you want to hurl your insides out.

it’s the moan that slips past your lips that makes you push him away. eyes wide. you look at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“i-i’ll see you tomorrow.” it’s almost as if waiting for his reaction has become an instinct to you too fast and too soon.

“yeah, see you tomorrow,” when yoongi reaches out his hand and wipes away the corner of your mouth that might’ve been lipstick that got smudged from the kiss, you grope for the door handle.

and you slip out of the car and walk to the entrance of your apartment building, not looking up even when you hear the amicable “good evening, miss ___, working late, are we?” from the security.

you keep walking until you’re inside the elevator.

and only then do you let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding. then the sob wrecks through your cold body.

funny how being trapped inside a metal box gives you more security than any human could provide.

#bts smut #yoongi smut #yandere yoongi #yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere smut #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi fic #yoongi scenarios #bts scenarios #bts x you #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts x reader

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tuiccim · 4 years

Text

Terrigenisis (Part 5)

Pairing: Avengers X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 4852

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

—————————————

That afternoon you find Steve and Bucky in the kitchen when you go to get a snack.

"Hey guys. What are you up to?" You smile at the two..

"Nothing really." Bucky says.

"Got any big plans?" You ask.

"Just planning on working on our bikes." Steve says.

"That reminds me. I was thinking the other day that I would love to do some cruising. Can I borrow one of your motorcycles?" You look at both the supersoldiers being sure to keep your expression benign.

Steve and Bucky exchange a look.

"Uhhh…"

"You see…" They spoke at the same time.

"There's kind of a, uh…"

"Code."

"Code! With motorcycles."

"Right. Ya know, rules."

"Like you don't sit on someone else's bike unless they give the okay."

"And… and… Bikes are sort of, uh…"

"Sacrosanct."

"Right! You know, like, really personal and, and…"

"It's not something you let people borrow, ya know?"

"Yeah! Not… not that we don't trust you."

"Right. Total trust, but bikes…"

You interject, "Are sacrosanct?"

"Right." They both look at you with near panic written across their faces.

You start giggling, "That was the funniest thing I have ever seen you two do. That was some vaudeville crap. FRIDAY, did you get that on record?"

"Yes, Ms. (L/N)." FRIDAY responds.

"Send the video to my phone, please." You can barely get the words out between laughs.

"Transfer complete." FRIDAY responds.

Steve and Bucky are staring at you in bewilderment. You explain, "My dad was a biker. He and his coastie buddies. I just had to see how you'd react."

“Really?” Bucky deadpans.

“Serious. They had a whole crew of weekend road warriors. All in love with their bikes.” You grin.

“And what are your plans with that video?” Steve asks.

“To keep it forever for my viewing pleasure. And maybe show Natasha and Wanda.” You smirk.

“FRIDAY,” Steve starts to say and as quickly as you can you begin to send the video to Nat and Wanda in hopes of disseminating it before whatever Steve was about to do. "Erase that video and delete it from her phone."

"Voice authorization required." As Friday speaks, you engage a firewall you programmed on your phone. Time to find out if you could compete with Tony when it comes to hacking.

"Rogers, Steven Grant." Cap looks at you with a smirk.

"Video removed from all Stark systems. Unable to access Ms. (L/N)'s phone." FRIDAY says.

"Sorry, Cap." You smirk at Steve. Carefully, you pick up your phone and, deciding your pockets are too easily accessed, you pull the collar of your shirt out and slide the phone into your bra.

"Why can't FRIDAY access your phone?" Bucky asks.

"I might have programmed a firewall onto it, ya know, just in case." You begin to slowly move towards the elevator. You are trying not to giggle as you feel your phone ding repeatedly. Wanda and Nat got the video.

Steve and Bucky exchange a look and when Steve gives a curt nod, they both advance on you. "Give me your phone." Steve says.

"Nope." You tuck tail and run, but of course you don't get far before a metal arm wraps around your waist and picks you up off the ground. You struggle for a moment but then decide to use a different tact. Bucky sets you down and takes hold of you by the upper arms. Steve stands in front of you in a full authoritative captain pose.

"Give me the phone." Steve repeats.

Straining against Bucky's grip, you push your chest out. You look up at Steve with doe eyes and say, "It's right there." Before glancing down at your chest and looking back up at him. Unfortunately, you can't hide your smirk as Steve glances from your face to your chest several times. "What's the matter, Cap? I thought you wanted my phone."

After a few more seconds of Steve's indecision, you're pulled back against Bucky and he wraps his arm around you, pinning your arms to your sides. "Steve's too much of a gentleman, Doll." Bucky says in your ear as his hand slides along your collarbone to the collar of your shirt and pauses. You look up to Bucky with eyes wide. "Don't worry. I won't take any liberties." Bucky smirks.

"You don't think putting your hand down my shirt and in my bra is a liberty? I do believe there are some strict sexual harassment guidelines for both Stark Industries and SHIELD that would beg to differ. Besides, judging from the amount of dings on my phone, Natasha and Wanda have already seen the video." You grin up at him.

"Clever little minx." Bucky grouses.

"Wanna know what they're saying?" You look at Steve.

"Let her go." Steve says in a defeated tone but he has a small smile on his face.

Bucky let's go of your arms but his hand remains at your collar. You trail a hand along his arm and slip it past his hand to retrieve your phone and open your messages. Bucky backs a few steps from you and you wink at him.

Nat: That was classic! 🤣

Wanda: They looked like they were gonna have a heart attack!😂☠️

Nat: They were stumbling over themselves to keep your hands off their 🏍️!

Wanda: They couldn't just offer to take you for a ride? They had to defend the thought of someone touching their bikes! 😂

Nat: I'm sure neither of them would mind taking her for a ride. 😜

Wanda: Nat! 😂

Nat: You know I'm right.

"They say you guys looked like you were gonna have a heart attack at the thought of someone else touching your bike." You grin, deciding to leave out the second half of the conversation.

"What else did they say?" Steve narrows his eyes at you.

"That you could have at least offered to take me on a ride." You smile as you look between the two.

"I'll take you out on my bike, Doll." Bucky smiles at you.

"It's been a while since we just took the bikes for a ride." Steve says. "We should take an afternoon to go cruising like you suggested."

"I'd love that." You clap your hands and grin looking between the two. They chuckle at your enthusiasm.

“Tomorrow afternoon?” Steve says.

“How about after training in the morning? I’ll pack a picnic.” You smile at them both.

“I’m game.” Bucky looks to Steve.

“Sounds good, sweetheart.” Steve grins at you.

“Should we invite any of the rest of the team?”

A look passes between Steve and Bucky before Bucky answers, “Nah, let’s just keep it the three of us. Clint is headed to the farm, the couples won’t mind some alone time, and Sam is headed to DC for some meetings.”

“Okay. I’ll see you guys later, then.” You head to your room. Finally, something to do besides train and missions. You can’t wait.

That evening you, Nat, and Wanda are sitting in your room, rewatching the video of Steve and Bucky and giggling. You get around to telling them about your plans with the guys the next day.

“Wait, you are going on a date with both of them?” Wanda exclaims.

“What? No! It’s not a date. We are just going out for a ride on their bikes.” You say.

“Alone? With just Steve and Bucky?” Nat says.

“Yeah. They’re my friends.” You defend.

“But you know Bucky has a thing for you.” Wanda says.

“How do we know that?” Nat looks between the two of you.

“Game night. That kiss?” Wanda says emphatically.

“It was just a kiss! It didn't mean anything." You say.

“Ohhhhh, no. Wanda is right. Bucky does have a thing for you.” Nat says.

“Oh, please, he does not. I’m the only available female living on the compound. That's the only reason you two want to pair me up with him so bad.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, please, yourself! You’re beautiful, funny, smart! How could they not be interested?” Wanda states.

“And how can you blame us for enjoying the free entertainment. Plus I happen to know Steve has a thing for you, too.” Natasha smirks.

“No, he doesn't! Stop.” You look at Nat in horror.

“Why else would he call you Doll all the time? Don't you like Steve?” Natasha looks at you.

“I'm his friend. It's just a nickname. Of course, I do. He’s a sweetheart. I think you two are reading way too much into my friendship with them. I just, I mean, even if they were interested, I’m just me. They’re Captain frickin’ America and the Winter Soldier! Why would they ever think like that?” You put your head in your hands. It was frustrating you couldn't just tell them that Steve and Bucky are together. It would stop all of this nonsense.

Wanda laughs, “You mean they’re gorgeous, have incredible abilities, are sweet and kind and fun, right?”

“Yeah.” You say.

“She just described you. You are gorgeous, have incredible abilities, and a sweet, funny personality. You guys are perfect for each other.” Nat smirks.

“Guys, please, please stop. It's just not like that with them. We're friends and that's it. Okay?” You scoff at their knowing looks. “I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Night.”

“Sleep tight.”

Their giggles trail behind you as you head to your room. As you get close to your door, you can hear Steve and Bucky in Steve’s room. You aren’t trying to eavesdrop but your hearing ability makes it difficult not to overhear conversations.

“I just don’t know if this is gonna work out, Stevie.” Bucky grouses.

"All we can do is ask. We trust her, right?" Steve says.

“Yeah.” Bucky says.

Your brows furrow at the comment and your mind runs amuck for a moment before shaking away your thoughts. You hurry past, putting your earbuds in to avoid hearing any more, and slip into your room quietly.

Training the next morning flew by in your excitement. Afterwards, you hit the shower, change into motorcycle ride appropriate gear, and go to the kitchen to put together the picnic. Bucky and Steve come in just as you are finishing packing the little cooler.

"You look great." Steve says. "The boots are a good choice."

"Thanks. You guys ready?" You can't hold in your excitement and are grinning like a fool.

"Yeah. I'll get the cooler, Doll." Bucky offers returning your smile.

When you get to the garage, Bucky sets the cooler on the back of Steve's bike much to Steve's annoyance.

"Really, Buck?" He grouses.

"I carried it down. Only fair, right?" Bucky elbows him.

"Yeah, thanks. I get a hard cooler in the back and you get the beautiful dame." Steve throws an elbow back at Bucky and then stiffens, turning to look at you.

You laugh and wink at him. "Tell ya what, I'll ride back with you and Bucky can have the empty cooler." You look at Bucky, "Only fair, right?"

"Right, Doll." Bucky chuckles. He hands you a helmet and you climb on the bike behind him. You'd be lying if you didn't admit that your body reacted to the closeness of his, the intimacy of holding on to him, and the vibrations of the bike. You cruise out and the wind whips around you.

Steve and Bucky speed ahead of each other alternatively. You hear Bucky laughing. You grin over at Steve who is laughing at their escapades. He looks so happy and carefree as you head into the middle of nowhere. You rarely see any other cars and the scenery is beautiful as you speed down winding roads.

“This is great!” You hollar over the rumble of the engine. Bucky revs in response and you squeal. You can feel Bucky’s body rumbling with laughter. You wish you could see his face.

Nearly an hour and a half later, Steve slows and veers into the woods with Bucky close behind. They slow down and you can’t tell if they are following a path or not. They are carefully weaving through trees and undergrowth until you reach a small clearing under a huge oak tree.

Steve stops and turns to you and Bucky, “What do you think? Good for a picnic?”

“I think it’s perfect!” You say, already getting off the bike. The guys grin at each other and turn their bikes off. Steve retrieves the cooler and Bucky pulls a blanket out of his saddlebag. You spread the blanket under the branches of the oak tree and pull all the food out.

“This looks delicious.” Steve says as he tucks into one of the hearty sandwiches you had made him. Fruit, cheese, crackers, hummus, and some bottles of water and soda round out the menu.

“Hopefully, it tastes delicious, too.” You laugh and Steve nods while chewing.

Bucky looks over at you after swallowing his bite of sandwich, “Thanks for making the food. It is delicious.”

He mugs a face at Steve and you giggle as Steve says, “Jerk.”

“Punk.” Bucky replies.

“Goofballs.” You pipe in. They both snap their heads to you and you shrink into yourself a little feeling like you’d interfered in their playful banter. “Sorry.”

“Goofballs? That’s the best you can do?” Bucky throws a grape at you.

“Asshats.” You throw the grape back.

“Ohhh! Okay, that’s better.” Bucky laughs. Steve grins and shakes his head.

“What was it like growing up in the Coast Guard?” Steve asks.

“A lot of moving. My dad was stationed in Mobile, Alabama when I was born until I was 4, then Boston until second grade, Northern California for 4 years, Alaska for two, back to Mobile through high school. My dad was sent back to California then and I went to college in Louisiana. It was interesting because I got to live in different places with different cultures. It’s hard with friends. I still have my best friend from high school I keep in touch with. Most of the others faded away. My dad was great. He did everything he could to be a good dad.” You shrug. “What was it like growing up when you did?”

“Way different.” Steve laughs.

“You don’t have to put newspaper in your shoes anymore.” Bucky chuckles.

“No Penicillin. Food wasn’t as good. Fewer people you were connected with but closer connections.” Steve says.

“Yeah.” You say quietly, staring off.

“Hey, doll, where’d you go?” Bucky says.

“Sorry.” You give a small smile. “Just, connections are hard. Especially when you don’t stay in one place for very long. I thought that part of my life was over and, here I am, right back in it.”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Steve says.

“I moved so much as a kid. Lost friends and nowhere was really ever home. And then I thought it was over. Charlie and I built a life and made a home. And then… terrigenesis. And I’m in SHIELD and it starts all over again. Two months to close out my old life with an agent constantly looking over my shoulder cause I can’t go back, six months of bureaucracy and evaluations and therapy, six months with one team, then I get moved to the Avengers team, and I guess in some ways I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. When am I gonna have to move again? Will I ever have a home again? Like I said before, limbo sucks.”

“You’re not going anywhere, doll. You’re stuck with us.” Bucky smiles sweetly at you.

“Bucky’s right, sweetheart. You’re an Avenger. This is your team now. Your family.” Steve says.

“Thanks. I hope you’re right.” You look between them before leaning back on your elbows and looking up at the branches of the oak tree. “This tree is amazing.”

“Beautiful.” Steve says, but when you look at him he’s looking at you not the tree. You mug a face at him. Looking back up at the branches you make a quick decision and begin unzipping your boots. You pull them and your socks off before walking under one of the lower branches.

“Steve, give me a boost.” You turn to him and say.

“You’re gonna climb the tree?” Steve asks as he gets up and walks over.

“Yup.” You put your hands on his shoulders as he cups his hands for you to step up. You grab the branch and pull yourself up to it. You climb as far up as you can safely reach and looking down you can barely see Bucky or Steve who are staring up at you.

You hear Bucky say, “I’m gonna take a walk.”

“She’ll be fine, Buck.” Steve tells him.

“Yeah.” Bucky keeps walking and you feel bad knowing he must hate heights from his past accident. You hadn’t thought about it before deciding to climb. You had just wanted the free feeling of being up high and maybe a minute to yourself. Your feelings were confusing you. Both Bucky and Steve treated you with respect and sweetness. It would be easy to fall for one of them and you reminded yourself often to not let your heart get ahead of your head. You take a few more moments sitting on the branch taking in the view and the freedom before moving back down. As you lower yourself from the bottom branch, you feel strong hands grip your waist. You let go and are gently lowered down.

“Have fun?” Steve asks, smiling down at you.

“Yeah.” You smile back at him. He lifts a hand to your cheek and lowers his face closer to yours. “Steve!” You put your hand over his. “What are you doing?"

"I was trying to kiss you." He smiles at you.

"What about Bucky?" You ask.

Steve's brow furrows, "What do you mean?"

“I… I mean, I know about you and Bucky. Why would you try to kiss me?�� You say.

“How do you know about me and Buck?” He asks.

You give him a look. “I didn’t mean to overhear. But I can’t help it sometimes. I can’t keep headphones or earplugs in all the time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asks, calmly.

“I assumed you’d tell me when you were ready.” You shrug. “I didn’t want to force you into telling me something you weren’t ready to. Steve. Why did you try to kiss me?”

“Because he has feelings for you. We both do.” Bucky surprises you. You hadn’t heard him approach.

“What?” You look at him confused.

“Let’s sit down, sweetheart. We want to talk to you about something.” Steve takes your hand and leads you back to the blanket. You sit down and put your socks and boots back on as Steve begins to explain. “You know our story. We were separated for 70 years and came out of it having lost pretty much everyone we ever cared about. We’re all we have left of our old life and…”

“And we don’t want to live separately.” Bucky picks up when Steve flounders. “We love each other and want to live our lives together. And when we realized we were both attracted to you. We hoped that you might be willing to be with us. Both of us.”

“Both… both of you?” You look between them.

“Yes.” Steve fidgets nervously.

“Like, as a beard?” You ask.

“No! Never. Like, as our girlfriend.” Bucky says.

“Girlfriend?” You say as you are trying to wrap your mind around this unexpected development. “As in a polyamorous relationship?”

“Right.” Steve says.

“How, how would it work?” You are intrigued by the idea. Immensely, if you are honest with yourself. You had felt attraction and emotion for both of them and felt like there was something there with each of them but this wasn’t how you expected this to turn out.

“We would all be together. As equals. You’d be our girlfriend and we’d be your boyfriends.” Steve says.

You nod slowly, “And you both want me?”

Bucky and Steve look at each other for a moment and smile. “Yes.”

“You haven’t noticed us flirting with you like crazy?” Bucky smirks.

“I thought you were just being goofy with me. I mean, I thought you two were together and had no interest in me. Not like that.”

“Do you have more questions?” Steve asks.

“How, um, physical is your relationship?” You feel a bit like a creep for asking, but it would inform how things would work.

“Fairly physical.” Steve says.

“So, how would sex work?” You ask.

A lightning quick look passes between them. Bucky grins, “Pleasurably.”

“Hopefully so, but what I mean is, will it be all three of us all the time?” You bite your lip.

“Yes. Unless one of us is on mission or away. It has to work every way for it to work, I think.” Steve says.

“Say, you’re gone to a meeting and Bucky and I… ? Will that create tension, jealousy, anger?”

“Will it if it’s Bucky and I, while you are gone?” Steve turns the question around on you.

A corner of your mouth goes up as you picture walking into the two cuddled up post-coital. You only feel caring when you consider your feelings and theirs. “I don’t think so. What about the team? Would we keep this a secret?”

“I’d like to keep it quiet until we’re sure if this will work out. I don’t want to cause tension in the team and it’s not the most conventional relationship. I think it would be a good idea for them to know you and Bucky are together. We'll work up to the rest.” Steve replies.

"Is that what you want?" You look to Bucky.

"It's absolutely what I want. As long as it's with the two of you." Bucky says.

“Have you been in a relationship like this before?” You ask.

“No. This would be a first for us. We’ve both dated, but not since we decided that this is the way we wanted our relationship to be.” Steve says.

"Are you sure you want me? I mean, why? Why me? Is it just that you're both attracted to me physically?" You ask.

"You're beautiful. There's no denying that, Doll." Bucky hooks some of your hair behind your ear. "But you're also smart and funny and loving. When Steve and I talked about this we knew that even if you turned us down you wouldn't judge us. Wouldn't spread it around for amusement."

"We knew we could trust you. That's not easy. And you're amazing. Gracious. I don't know how anyone wouldn't want you." Steve says while taking your hand.

"So, is that a yes? Or a maybe?" Bucky asks, taking your other hand.

“Or you’ll think about it?” Steve’s looks at you with concern.

You look between the both of them, knowing there was only one answer. You pull their hands together so that you are holding their hands between both of yours. "If any of us are ever hurt by the others, we talk about it together. If one of us wants out, we talk about it together. Open communication, always. If you can both agree to that, then… then it's a yes."

"I can agree to that." Steve says, adding his other hand to the top of yours.

"Agreed." Bucky places his hand on top of Steve's.

"Then it's a yes." You smile at them.

"Does that mean I can kiss you now?" Steve asks.

"Hmm…" You smile and bite your lip before answering, "Yeah." You say grinning. Steve leans in and plants a gentle, sweet kiss on your lips. You smile once you separate and then turn to Bucky. "Does that mean I can kiss you now?" You say to him.

"Hell, yeah." He says as he pulls you close. His kiss is firm but still sweet.

"And one last kiss to seal the pact." You look between the two of them. They grin at each other and lean in for a kiss. You smile at them as they part and look at you. "Okay. Well, I still want to finish our ride and we have several hours of daylight left."

You pack up all traces of your picnic and Steve places the cooler on the back of Bucky's bike with a smirk. Bucky growls at him but doesn't protest.

"Did you just growl?" You grin up at Bucky.

"He's robbing me of the pleasure of having you against me." Bucky chuckles. You reach up and pull him down for a kiss, opening your mouth to invite his tongue in, which he takes full advantage of as he presses you to him. After a minute, you pull away. "Hope that makes up for it just a little bit." You smirk at him as you get on the bike behind Steve.

"That was hot." Steve says as he starts up his bike.

You wrap your arms around him and squeeze. "Don't worry. There's more where that came from." You laugh.

"God, I hope so." You hear Bucky say.

You're still giggling as you jounce back towards the main road. The guys weave around each other, rev their engines, and you exchange grins with Bucky and an occasional comment with Steve. Almost two hours later, Steve pulls into a gas station. He parks the bike next to the pump and you get off the bike and stretch. “I’m going to find the ladies room.”

“Okay.” He smiles as he watches you walk away.

“You staring hard enough at her ass?” Bucky quips from behind.

“You weren’t doing the exact same thing?” Steve smirks.

“Maybe.” Bucky chuckles as he pumps gas.

Steve finishes pumping his gas, “Hey Buck, you want a drink or anything?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Bucky says. As soon as Steve disappears into the store, Bucky takes the cooler from his bike and moves it to Steve’s.

He turns when he hears you bark out a laugh. “That was slick, Bucky.”

“Thanks, doll. It’s my turn again, right? Only fair.” He grins.

“Bucky!” You both turn to see Steve’s scowl. “Really?” He hands you and Bucky both a drink.

“Thank you.” You say to Steve. You pull him to you and slide your arms around his neck. He takes no preamble and kisses you deeply. He leaves you nearly breathless by the time he pulls back.

“Worth it.” Steve says as he grins at Bucky.

You giggle and swat his butt as he walks back to his bike. “Time to head back?” You ask as you climb on Bucky’s bike behind him.

Steve and Bucky exchange looks. “A little further.” Bucky says.

“Yeah.” Steve agrees and starts his bike up.

About 45 minutes later, they turn off onto a small side road, and then onto a long gravel drive. They pull up to a cabin surrounded by woods with a creek running to the west of it. They switch their engines off before turning to each other and then to you. You feel butterflies begin in your stomach, “Who’s cabin is this?” You ask as you get off Bucky’s bike.

“It’s one of Tony’s many properties.” Steve says.

You begin to tremble. Not out of fear but nervousness. You knew from your conversation earlier today that sex was inevitable, but looking at the cabin behind Steve you understood the expectation. You weren’t sure if you were quite ready for that step. “Uh-huh. And what are we doing here?”

“I guess that depends on you, sweetheart.” Steve looks at you nervously.

You wrap your arms around yourself and look at Bucky with a raised eyebrow wanting his input. He takes in your demeanor and immediately feels empathy for your discomfort. “Nothing you don’t want to do, doll. We can stay the night here doing whatever you are comfortable with or turn around and go back. No pressure. No expectations.”

“I’m pretty sure something like this always comes with expectations.” You say looking between the two.

“There might be some hope but no expectations. Promise.” Steve puts his hands on your waist and looks at you earnestly. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want.”

You run through your thoughts for a minute looking into Steve’s eyes and then smile, “Seal it with a kiss.” Steve grins as he pulls you in for a kiss. Once he lets you go you face Bucky and look at him expectantly. He smiles and kisses you, too.

“I like the idea behind this.” You look at the cabin.

“What do you mean? Steve says.

“Having our first night together alone. Without prying eyes and ears. Outside the compound. It feels like a lot less pressure.” You smile.

“I was worried it might scare you.” Bucky says. “Taking you to the middle of nowhere without telling you. We’re serious. No pressure.”

“I’m not scared. I could never be scared of either of you. Just nervous.” You say. “Now, show me this cabin.”

Steve enters the code on the lock and holds open the door to the well appointed cabin for you.

Part 6

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