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fangirl-dot-com · 9 months

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Across Every Universe

Well, this got away from me and then BAM - over 9k words. Uh, I will also be willing to pay for therapy if needed, oopsies. Anyway, please enjoy! I cried multiple times while writing this. All of my favorite things in life are rolled into this one fic.

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! love you all <3

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Earth 199999

“Mr. Verstappen?”

Max look up from the suit that he was currently working on. His eyes were blocked by his newest technological glasses that kept information in his fingertips.

He wanted to roll his eyes. This new assistant really didn’t get the memo of Do Not Disturb. Man, did he wish Kelly were still here. Yet, there was that unspoken rule of not dating your boss, so Max was happier with her being his girlfriend rather than assistant.

“Yes?” he muttered back, looking back down at the prototype reactor that should be 15% more powerful than the one he has now.

“Mr. Leclerc is here to see you.”

Max sighed as he threw the screwdriver down. “I told Charles that I was to not be disturbed.”

The assistant shrank back but continued on, much to his annoyance. “He said it was urgent. Something about Case 89?”

That got Max’s attention right away. He abruptly stood up, knocking down a few things on his desk as he rushed past his assistant.

“Cancel the rest of my meetings today.”

“But sir, you have a call with the president and a public appearance…”

Max twirled around. “I said, cancel everything.”

A large gulp sounded as he stared down at the incompetent helper. Maybe he could convince Kelly to come back.

“Yes sir.”

With that, Max stalked down the hallway to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for the top floor. He checked his watch, making sure the technology was there. Specifically, the watch could change into a powered glove if he needed it. And he sure hoped he wouldn’t. The elevator sounded when he finally reached the floor.

He was barely out of the small box when three pairs of eyes were on him.

“Took you long enough,” a Monegasque accent sounded.

With a roll of his eyes, Max rebutted, “My assistant doesn’t get the meaning of my orders.”

A squawk of a laugh came from the corner.

“You think that’s funny Lando?” Max quipped as he turned to his right.

A curly hair Brit sat on a table, feet put together like he was stretching his inner thighs.

“Everything is funny Max when you don’t have a stick up your ass,” Lando responded as he slid off the table.

“This is not the time for laughs and games gentlemen,” another British accent sounded.

Charles finally spoke again. “I apologize Director Horner.” He shot a stare at Lando. “It won’t happen again.”

While this was happening, Max had taken a step to his computer. His fingers danced over the keyboard and brought up surveillance footage from downstairs. His eyes flickered up to look at his two “companions” and, well, his boss per say.

The Monegasque was in his “get up” as Max called it. The multiple layers of ancient looking clothes disguised his figure. His red cape floated behind him and a green jewel seemed to glow behind its eye-like holder around his neck.

Lando was dressed a skin tight red and blue suit. A web-like pattern covered its entirety and a spider lay resting on his chest. The face piece was tossed on the couch behind the table where he previously sat. His fingers twitched and flexed with lack of motion.

Director Horner was draped in his regular black trench coat. Black shoes, black shirt, and black pants accompanied the fashion piece. His hair was kept and gelled. The most distinct item was a black eye-patch that covered his right eye. No one knew how he got it, but the three claw marks that started at his eyebrow gave Max a few hints. There was that old encrypted file that mentioned something about a flerken.

“So what are we working with?” Max questioned as the correct surveillance footage came up. On the screen was a clear box, with what looked like a person sitting in the farthest corner. Long hair covered their face as it was tucked into their knees.

Charles did a motion with his arms. Golden strands danced around and flickered before they disappeared. Horner sighed and rubbed his brows as Charles let out a nervous chuckle.

Lando rolled his eyes before clicking something on his wrist. A pull up hologram flashed from his specialized watch.

There was a picture of a young girl and a list of lettering to the left of it.

Max crossed his arms, eyes hard and cold. Charles let out a little gasp as he quickly gazed the list.

Horner kept quiet.

Lando began to read off of the floating screen. “Her name is Y/n L/n. Twenty-two years old. An orphan. Lived in Brooklyn all her life.”

Max waved his hand in frustration. “We know this. I want to know why she flagged our radars and is currently in the most powerful containment cell we own.”

If he had a desk with papers all over in front of him, the papers would be on the floor in one clean swipe.

Lando sucked in a breath. “She killed 12 people in a freak accident.”

A video started to play.

The girl was surrounded by mass destruction. Smoke and fire filled the air. Bodies littered the floor. Yet, Max’s attention was on the black tendrils coming out of her back. They were a fluid type, moving around through the air like a fish in water. The girl seemed distressed as her hands were trying to stop the things coming out of her back.

The tendrils suddenly stopped and disappeared back from where they came from her back. The girl stopped, looked around, and looked right at the security cameras. A moment later, one large black tendril flew from her hand and cut the video.

Lando sighed when he put the hologram down. “She was found two days later, unconscious. The tendrils came out when the police found her. They seemed like they were trying to protect her. That’s when they called in Charles and I.”

“They were difficult to deal with, but seemed responsive to another protection spell that I was able to use to transport her,” Charles concluded.

Director Horner questioned, “Why was Norris called as well?”

Lando decided to answer for himself, “Well it is my jurisdiction and I’ve dealt with something like this before. Remember Eddie Brock. This symbiote seems to be of familiar decent.”

While the three others kept talk, Max continued to watch the scared girl. At this point a tendril had appeared and was almost trying to comfort you.

“I’m going to go talk to her.”

That shut the three up.

Charles looked at him with a weird gaze. “You don’t know what she can do.”

Max pointed at the screen.

“She’s a little girl who is probably scared to death of who we are and what we might do to her. She’s probably thinking that she’s going to die in the next few days.”

“I’ll go with. I’ve seen this before. I lost my friend because of this thing. I won’t let it take another life,” Lando confessed. A hard look on his face.

“Then it’s settled. Lando lets go.” Max turned to leave, Lando hot on his tail. Charles and Director Horner stayed behind and continued to look at the file.

The elevator took Max and Lando down to the locked floor. Max clicked a few buttons on his watch and used his fingers to wrap the glove around it. The whir of the machine sounded as it warmed up.

“I will give a signal if I think the subject will engage. I need you up in the sky.” Max stepped out of the metal box.

Lando nodded. “On it.”

When the two got to the door, Max swiped a card. The door opened and Lando started to climb the walls. Once at a significant height, Lando stopped and hung on with one foot and one hand. His other hand was ready to shoot a web to swing in.

Max slowly walked over.

In the time that Max and Lando had taken to get down there, the tendril had disappeared. But to Max’s surprise, the girl was looking right at him. Without any fear, Max opened the door, stepped over, closed it, and sat down on the opposite side of her.

“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered, visibly shaking.

Max was taken back.

“Excuse me?”

You looked him dead in the eyes.

“When do you plan to kill me?”

Max looked with sad eyes. What had you gone through for that to be the first question to run through your mind? He shook his head.

“I’m not going to kill you. No one is going to kill you. We have an offer for you actually.”

It was now time for you to look confused.

“There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more.”

You inhaled. “To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight battles that we could never.”

Max smirked.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’ve heard the speech on the news.”

“What’s your name?”

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

“Welcome to the team kid.”

From a small window above, the sunset cast a small sliver of orange light into the room. It illuminated the small space between you and Max, almost acting as a bridge from the past to the new present.

Earth 2113

A grunt left Max’s lips as he threw another knife at the tree. He had been in this cove for a few hours. The stream provided him with much needed fresh water. He was able to take a mock shower, but it only reminded him of the sweet lake that he had back home.

Home.

It felt like a foreign concept.

Weeks had passed since he had last been there. It was supposed to be his last year until he aged out. But really, the odds were never in his favor.

His name was in there 68 times.

Year before, his name had been in there even more times. Not once was his name chosen. But, this year it had been.

How he wished to return back to his own trees, and use an ax instead of the knife he was currently twirling.

A snap of a branch had him shoot up, knife raised ready to throw. His eyes darted around his utopia that might soon become bathed in blood.

As he turned to his right, his eyes met big round ones.

Your small frame was frozen in fear. The rushing sound of water had mocked you long enough. You were so thirsty.

Max watched as you glanced at the river and then back to him. His tense shoulders relaxed once he realized what you were here for.

He slowly brought the knife down, as to not scare you.

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You did not seem convinced, but you seemed less scared.

“Go on.”

That seemed to do the trick as you darted over and started to fill a water bottle first.

Smart, Max thought.

He had seen you a couple times during training. The twelve year old from District 11. Small, witty, scared. Your eyes always seemed to be filled with tears during training. However, you seemed determined for someone who probably knew that they wouldn’t win the games.

“Thank you,” you whispered after you had gotten your fill of the water. In your outstretched hand was an apple. “Got it from the big pile.”

Max stared at it. His stomach said yes, but his head said no. The rational side said it probably wasn’t poisoned, but the back of his mind tried to convince him that it was.

“I have another one. I can eat it first?”

Max nodded at the offer and you took a bite. He waited for a few minutes, waiting for you to keel over. Except it never happened. You ate the entire apple happily. Max liked to wonder if you might have enjoyed an apple in school before all this. Maybe your hair would be put in two pigtails, done by your mother with a kiss on the forehead.

He finally took the apple and his stomach and brain were both happy.

This seemed to be their little thing that happened in the next few days.

Max would wait by the river just before the sun started to set. And you would somehow show up with two shiny apples.

He thinks at this point they might be from sponsors. He had one main sponsor, a man named Christian, who kept supplying him with different small knives and a few things here and there. The two of you would fill your water bottles and eat the apples.

He had gotten you to giggle a couple of times, which lifted his spirits. You taught him which plants were edible, and he taught you how to properly throw a knife. He had given you one of his for safe keeping. But he really hoped that you’d use it if you the time came. Blood on your hands would kill his soul. Yet, he’d rather keep you alive then have you die.

One night, you had fallen asleep on his chest while the two of you watched the late night slide show of who died that day.

Apparently, there were four left including you and him. Your small puffs of air hit his face as he finally closed his eyes. He thought it was funny how you fit perfectly in his arms. His mind wandered to his girl back home in District 8. He wondered if he’d ever have a kid like you that would fit between him and her.

The sound of a boom woke Max up. His arms curled protectively around air. When he noticed, he shot up. Taking no time, he grabbed his bag and knife that was attached to a long stick.

“Kid?” he yelled out, voice straining.

“Kid?” Another shout as he ran.

“Kid?” Shouting, Max jumped over tree stumps and through brush.

He stopped.

“Kid?”

A whisper.

You stood with your back to him. His eyes glanced to what lie in front of you.

A body was faced down. Max sighed in relief. That cannon was not for you.

“Kid, don’t ever do that…again.”

You had finally turned around at the familiar and safe voice.

Max’s heart plummeted at the sight of tears in your eyes, red patch that was slowly growing on your t-shirt, and bloody hands. His backpack and stick dropped to the ground.

A ring vibrated through his ears as he rushed to catch you before you fell to the ground.

“Kid?” Max asked as you looked up at him. Your small hand reached up and touched his face, leaving a bloody trail on his cheek.

“I did it just like you showed me Maxie. Now you can win.”

Max smiled, with tears streaming down his face. The some that fell on you were wiped with his trembling fingers.

“Of course you did.”

Your big eyes stared up at him. “Are you proud of me?”

Such a big question for such a small girl.

“Always,” he whispered back.

“Can you tell me that story? About the big lion and little lion? One more time?”

He let out a wobbly breath.

“Once upon a time, there was a big lion that lived in a forest. He had about 19 other lions, but he was really a loner. The other lions weren’t good friends with the big lion. He felt like he was miles away and no one could touch him.”

He noticed your eyes start to slowly glaze over and he tried to keep going.

“The lion was very lonely and sad, but one day, the world decided to give him a friend: a little lion.”

The cannon boom stopped his story in its tracks. His arms curled around you as he wailed. He wailed and wailed, not caring who could see him.

After a few moments, he gulped down his cries.

“And the lion was finally happy with the cub. He didn’t need any other friends. As long as he had the little one, he’d be ok. And the big lion and little lion left toward the sunset and were friends forever.”

He leaned down to give your little head a farewell kiss.

A few hours later, Max was declared the victor of the 89th Annual Hunger Games. As the helicopter that carried him flew toward the sunset, Max let tears drip down his face freely. He knew his little lion was finally safe.

Always walking toward the sunset, waiting for the big lion to join.

Earth 2230

“Ah Master Charles, glad you could make it,” Lando said snarkily as he sat in his seat.

“Sorry, my padawan had many questions and kept me in the library for too long,” the man confessed as he took his seat next to Lando’s.

“Oscar is the same way. What is with these trainees wanting to spend hours and hours in the library?” Lando’s head was leaned back in mock annoyance.

Master Carlos, who sat across from the curly-haired man smirked. “You were like that once when you were my padawan Lando.”

A scoff escaped Lando’s lips. He turned back to Charles.

“How is Arthur handling everything?”

Charles smirked. “He cried when we had to cut his hair.”

“Well, he will get used to it,” a new voice piped up. The man had curly hair, like Lando’s, but a big gummy smile was plastered on his face.

“Daniel, you don’t understand. He was inconsolable.” Charles’s hands raised in frustration.

“Does anyone know why we were summoned? And where is Max and Master Horner?”

The doors slid open and two figures walked in.

“We’re sorry for out tardiness Master Alonso. We had some trouble in the elevators.” Christian sent Max a knowing look that was returned with an eye roll. Max huffed as he sat down in his chair next to Charles.

Once seated, Christian began to talk.

“Well, I guess you’re wondering why we were all summoned here today.”

A snort came from Lando, who quickly shut up after he received a glare from Carlos. He sank back into his chair.

Christian continued. “Master Vettel and Master Räikkönen think they’ve found the chosen.”

Murmurs began to spread around the room. Annoyed with the added noise, Max was the one who spoke up.

“Silence.”

The room quieted.

Daniel was the one to lean forward. “How do they think they’ve found the chosen? It’s just a prophecy that has been collecting dust for centuries.”

Christian rubbed his face. “All they said was that they felt a disturbance in the force when they visited Naboo for their diplomatic mission. They went to investigate and the force grew stronger the closer they got to the capital center.”

A hologram erupted from the middle. It was a map of the center with an undergrown view as well. A red beacon signaled from deep down. Max’s finger pointed at it.

“Underneath they found an illegal human trafficking ring that dealt with children with force sensitivity. When they got there, most of leaders had been knocked unconscious. In the middle was a girl. They said the force just pulsated off her being.”

Christian picked up from there. “They’re bringing her in in just a few moments. She’s been debriefed about everything and is willing to join the cause.”

Lando looked intrigued. “Who’s going to be her master.”

Max leaned back in his chair. “I am.”

A scoff echoed, but it wasn’t from Lando this time. It was from Master Hamilton. Max tilted his head and cast his gaze on the older Master.

“Have something to say Lewis?”

Lewis rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t someone more,” he paused, “advanced in their Master roll be given the chosen as their padawan?”

Charles spoke up. “Like you?”

“Yes,” came the answer from the man.

Carlos spoke, “But you just brought on your own padawan. I don’t think poor George would be too keen on losing a Master so close to his choosing.”

“But you shouldn’t give the chosen over to another child.”

Max stood up in anger. “I’ve been through the trials. I am as much of a Master as you are.”

“Enough,” a new voice roared as the doors to the room opened.

They all stood up and sightly bowed their heads.

“Master Vettel. Master Räikkönen.”

Behind the two stood a teenage girl. Robes already adorned her body. Her hair was tied in traditional high braids, and a smaller, thinner one draped over her shoulder, showing her status.

Kimi took his seat in one of the center chairs, but Sebastian stood in the middle with the girl.

“As you all have probably been briefed by Master Horner, this is Y/n.”

You took a step forward and kneeled before the council. Sebastian took a step around you and sat in his seat.

“You may rise.”

You did as you were told and took a minute to briefly glance at the council of masters. Each one of them winced at the force energy that seemed to just radiate off of you. Well, all of them except one. Your eyes met his electric blue ones. He sent you a comforting smile, which you didn’t have time to send one back before Sebastian spoke.

“State your name for the council.”

You inhaled shakily. “My name is Y/n L/n, from Coruscant.”

Charles leaned towards you, elbows on his knees. “But you were brought here from Naboo.”

You winced at the mention of the name. The masters could feel your distress and Max wanted nothing more than to elbow Charles for that insensitive question.

“I was taken, Master, from my home planet and enslaved for the past three years.”

Charles grimaced at your answer and leaned back, staying silent for the rest of the meeting.

Kimi sent you a small smile before he cleared his throat. “We have brought you here to begin your padawan training.”

That must have comforted you since the force wasn’t buzzing as much around you. The masters were now at ease.

Max wanted to talk, since he was going to be your new master, but he was interrupted by what he thought was a grating voice.

“So, are you the chosen one?” Lewis questioned, eyes slitted as he looked at you.

Your ease was now slowly vanishing as you were under the scrutiny of the master. Your gulp was heard through the room. Lando felt bad as he once had been under the same gaze when he was a Padawan. He tried to send you comforting signals through the force.

“I don’t know for sure if I’m the chosen. I’m just thankful to be alive at this point Master. And I don’t enjoy being picked apart before I even know what I am to begin with.” Your voice had risen in annoyance. “Sir.”

Max smirked. He didn’t need to look around, he knew the others were also smirking or trying not to laugh.

Sebastian spoke next. “Y/n, we would like you to pick your master.”

Max wanted to jump and shout that you were already supposed to be his padawan, but Christian’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Your tired eyes looked around the room.

The master with the thick dark hair and tanned skin looked promising, but you could feel that he already had a want for another padawan. He gave off the same energy as the boy with similar hair that you had passed on your way here. His friends called him Rafael.

Across from him, curly hair caught your attention. But you also felt that he already had what he was looking for.

Same as the man with the short goatee and green eyes. You felt a familial energy reach out to someone, probably a brother close by. You wouldn’t want to separate them.

The other curly-haired man showed you a smile that rivaled the sun. Once again, his force energy was already attached, but it seemed he had two. Not rare, but it was weird to feel the force branch like that.

You had already asked Master Vettel and Räikkönen if you could be there padawan, but they had declined.

The dark man in the corner was giving you mixed signals that gave you a headache. His energy was split. The one that was attached was waning at you looked at him, almost as if he was trying to break it. At that moment you decided not to choose him. Because if he wasn’t 100 percent sure with his chosen, how could he be sure with you.

Your gaze finally landed on the blue eyed man that had sent you a smile. His force energy felt like it was vibrating at the same frequency as yours. Which helped it melt into a smooth rhythm.

When it had stilled, you heart, mind, and force had chosen.

Max felt it the moment your signature became still for the first time since you stepped foot into the room.

The other masters, except one, smiled at you. They all stood and left one by one until it was just you and your chosen in the room.

He stood up and walked toward you.

Your head bent in a quick bow. “Master.”

“You can call me Max.”

Your brows furrowed. “Is that allowed?”

Max only smirked. “Who cares. I’m your master now. My rules are your rules.”

You flashed him a smile. “Ok…Max.”

A grin crept onto his face. “You ready to save the galaxy kid?”

With a nod, you two shook hands.

The sunset filled the room as your silhouette became black shapes. Nothing would be better than the orange and pink casts from your home planet as you started your new life as “The Chosen” or better as “Master Verstappen’s Kid.”

Master and Padawan Pairings: Max and Y/n Charles and Arthur Carlos and Rafael (FAD) Lando and Oscar Daniel and Liam with Yuki Lewis and George Not mentioned – Alex and Logan Former Christian and Max Former Toto and Lewis Former Jules and Charles Former Carlos and Lando

Earth 934

1991

Your eyes glanced around the big train as you tried to find an open seat. Your hands clutched your bag as you kept walking further and further toward the back. You sighed in relief as you finally noticed a room with no one in it. You softly opened the door and slid in. Both seats were empty.

Taking a minute to breathe, you stared out at the vast country side that the train passed through. You almost fell asleep, but the sudden open and close of the car door made you jump. Your head turned toward the intruder.

A boy, possibly older than you since he already had his robes, was leaning against the now closed door. He took a deep breath before his blue eyes landed on you.

“Hi,” you said, not wanting the air to be filled with awkward silence. The boy did not reply, but he did go over and sat on the opposite bench of yours. Your folded your arms. He dared to interrupt your quiet and not respond.

You opened your mouth to speak once again, but he beat you to it.

“My name is Max. Sorry for interrupting whatever you had going on.”

Your mouth closed at his confession.

“What do they call you kid?”

“I’m not a kid. I’m twelve years old.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Which makes you a kid. You’re two years younger than I am.”

“That makes you fourteen. And by technicalities, you would be a kid as well.” You huffed, not enjoying the teasing from the older boy.

Max pouted. “Just tell me your name.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“It’s L/n. Y/n L/n.” A smirk crept on your face and Max’s mouth dropped open. He leaned forward, almost as if to tell you a secret.

He whispered. “Do you have, the, you know?”

Your small hand came up and brushed your little bangs away. There, on your forehead was a lightning bolt shaped scar. It wasn’t like a cartoon shape as it had little bolts that stretched out across and down, but stopping at your eyebrow.

“Wow,” Max managed to breathe out. “What house do you reckon you’ll get?”

You shrugged. “Well, my parents died and I was adopted by a muggle couple and they were awful. So I really don’t know what the houses actually stand for.”

Max looked angry for a moment. “Well, that’s bloody terrible for you have to gone through that. I hope that you’ll get into my house.” He pulled on his green and silver tie. “One of my friends, his name is Lando, is also in Slytherin. But then you have my best friend Daniel in Hufflepuff, Charles is in Gryffindor with his brother Arthur. You’d have to watch out for Lewis though in Ravenclaw, he’s a bit extreme.”

You took a moment to absorb all of his words.

“I think I’d like to stay with you or one of your friends.”

The 14-year-old was elated at the statement. “We’ll see what happens.”

1997

Your mind often went back to that conversation years ago. It was maybe the last time you ever felt safe anywhere. Hogwarts was supposed to be your home, yet here it lay destroyed.

That fateful night you had not been chosen to be a part of the Slytherin house, but thankfully you were placed in Gryffindor with Arthur and Charles. They took care of you like a family should have. Max also stayed super close to the three of you. Whether it was going to Honey dukes, playing quidditch, or even making potions in Headmaster Horner’s class, the four of you were together.

Your wand twirled in your hand as you sat on some broken steps. The once beautiful ceiling had giant holes in it that made way for the night sky. Tears streamed down your face as you pondered your next step.

It had gone downhill so quickly.

Lewis, as it turns out, had given your location away to Toto, who had wanted you dead since you were just a baby. He was the one to kill your parents and “bless” you with the mark on your head. The betrayal had sent shivers down everyone’s spine.

Many people had been killed because of you.

Charles and Arthur’s brother Jules had been hit by a stray spell. Their screams and wails were now permanently engraved in your brain.

Max’s girlfriend Kelly, a nice Hufflepuff, had been attacked by a rogue werewolf. She was still alive, but barely.

Your two Ravenclaw friends, Alex and Logan, were found under some rubble, hands clenched together as to share pain before death. You remembered how Oscar, another Ravenclaw who hung out with you and Lando, sobbed into the latter’s shoulder for hours after he found his blond best friend.

Your friends had died to protect you and you had done nothing.

At this thought, your mind was made up.

Toto wanted one thing, and one thing only: for you to die. For the umpteenth time your mind wandered to his ultimatum that he had given you earlier that evening.

“Y/n L/n. I know that you know that you are trapped now with nowhere to go. Come to the forbidden forest tonight and I will cease all fighting on my end. The rest of your friends won’t have to die due to your insubordination and fear. When you come, be prepared to die.”

His snake-like voice had been broadcast through the minds of everyone. Before he had even finished, you took your leave, not wanting to watch as another family wept over a dead brother or sister.

With shaky legs, you stood up and brushed your skirt. Your face showed your determination as you began to walk down the steps. But as your foot hit the actual floor, a body rammed into yours.

“Kid!” A voice from farther away yelled, accompanied by quick footsteps.

A quick glance at the hair that was attached to the body now in your arms let you know it was Arthur. Over the top of his head, you noticed Max and Charles running toward you.

They were quick to also put their arms around you.

Max maneuvered your face so that you were looking him in the eyes.

“Kid, we have to go now before he decides to attack again. Arthur and Charles know a way out. Let’s go.”

He thought that you had agreed as he turned around to leave. Charles followed him, and Arthur tugged on your hand, as if to lead you away.

Yet, you stayed put and Arthur’s hand slipped from yours.

“Y/n?” he asked, looking back with tears in his eyes. You gave him a crooked smile as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over.

You tilted your head in the opposite direction. That’s when it hit the three men. You had already made up your mind.

“No, no, no, no. You can’t,” Max choked out the last word.

“I have to Max. I won’t let another one of our friends die because of me. I can’t risk Daniel leaving you or have Lando taken from Oscar right after Logan.” You looked at the two brothers. “I can’t let you two lose each other. I won’t let that happen to your mom.”

Charles looked at your with sympathy swarming his green eyes. He slowly walked toward you and gave you a hug. While you were in his arms, his lips met your forehead. You knew that was going to be his goodbye.

Arthur was next. He pleaded as he curled his arms around you. “Let me go with you. Let me walk with you. I swear I’ll leave before...before...”

Your hand was slowly placed on his cheek as you shook your head. Another sob escaped his lips and a new tidal wave of tears left his and your eyes. “I can’t risk you. Please, stay with Charles.”

Arthur begrudgingly nodded, but not before placing a light kiss on your lips. A small smile graced your face as you tried to kiss back through the tears. When the two of you parted, he looked down at you, a sad smile now replacing his frown.

“Please try to come back to me.” With that, he turned around and left. Charles gave Max a knowing look before he took after his brother.

It was just you and your oldest friend.

Max came over and put his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t give you a hug, or a long speech, or a kiss on the forehead like he usually did when he had to leave you at the train station before every summer. He just looked at you before his eyes glanced at your wand. You thrust it in his hands.

“Take care of them for me?”

“Always.”

“Tell Lando that he can have whatever is in my house. I know he was looking at my Nimbus RB20 the other day.”

“Always.”

“And Max?”

A hum answered as Max couldn’t find the strength to speak.

“Watch the sunsets for me?”

“Always.”

Finally, you rushed into a hug. Max’s arms couldn’t get any tighter around your form. With one last squeeze, you broke the hug and turned away, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. Your walk to the forest was quick, as you wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

There, suddenly in front of you in all his ugly glory, was Toto. Lewis was to his side, looking rather ashen probably with fear. Even though he betrayed you, you tried to send a comforting smile his way.

“Are you ready to die?” The snake-like voice hissed.

“Yes.”

There was a moment between the yell of “Avada-Kadavra” and when the spell hit you. There, you knew peace. Your body hit the forest floor with a thud.

Arthur, who was still back at the castle suddenly inhaled sharply. Charles, scared for his younger brother’s sanity, knelt next to him.

“What is it?”

Max, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel all crowded around the younger boy.

He could only whisper.

“She’s gone.”

There was no time for mourning as someone screamed out in the courtyard. The group of boys rushed out and what they saw made them stop in their tracks. Headmaster Horner, who had been taken a few days ago, now carried your limp body for all to see.

“Y/n L/n is dead!”

“No!” your friend Lily screamed, but was quickly held back by Oscar.

“Silence. Foolish girl,” Toto hissed.

Arthur turned and put his head on Charles’s shoulder and wept, not caring anymore.

“She’s not dead.” Everyone’s heads turned to Max, who had his wand pointed at the dark wizard. “She’s alive,” he gulped, “in all of us. She wouldn’t want us to give up. She’d want us to continue, even when everything seems dark. And I won’t let her die in vain.”

Toto cocked his head. “Well then, you’ll die along with her.” He pointed his wand at the blue eyed boy, except a large explosion knocked him down. Your rolled out of Christian’s arms and ran toward Max, all while shooting a spell at the downed wizard.

The students and teachers all ran in different directions. The battle was back on.

Instead of running away, Max ran to you. He met you halfway and held you at a distance.

“You came back Kid.”

“Always.”

Earth 7521

“When will he get back?”

Logan stopped his machete in the air. You and he had been out in the sun for a couple of hours, trying to carve poles for the new housing system.

“He’ll get back before the sun goes down.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Your gaze was cast at the big wall with the giant gap in the middle. What went beyond was your guess as you hadn’t been there, and technically you weren’t allowed to go. You’d chosen to be a woodworker, not a runner.

Logan sighed. He had sworn that he’d take care of the new greenie, but this isn’t exactly what he signed up for.

“Max always gets back right at the gate closes. Has done every day since I got here. He comes in with Alex and they’ll go to the map room.” He really tried to ease your conscience. You had all but attached yourself to the boy since you got here. He couldn’t blame you since Max was really the first one that you saw. He was the same with Alex, as was Oscar with Lando and Max with Daniel.

Your brows furrowed. “But Alex just got back and Max isn’t with him.”

Logan dropped his machete and it thumped in the grass. His head jerked over to where you were looking. There, the Thai runner had just crossed the threshold of the giant gate, but the Dutch runner was nowhere to be found.

“Stay here,” he demanded, but really didn’t expect you to obey. Anything that had to do with Max, you would find out one way or another. A large groan came from the giant wall, signaling that it was about to close.

Logan hastened his pace and heard your footsteps try to keep up with him. As he got near, Lewis and Lando both crowded around Alex. The blond picked up on their conversation.

“Where’s Max?” Lando questioned as his eyes kept flickering between the hunched over runner and the wall.

Alex sucked in a breath. “We got separated. A griever was out in the open.”

Multiple gasps came from others as a crowd had formed.

Lewis’s eyes widened. “But grievers don’t come out in daylight.”

Alex had a sullen look. “I know.”

Lando cast another glance at the metal gate that let out another groan and a shake. This time, the doors were slowly closing.

“So we’re just going to leave Max in there?” Lando gestured.

Lewis looked down at the ground and nodded. A silence went over the group as they were now preparing to mourn the loss of one of their family.

Logan’s heart sunk. You must have been devasted. He turned around to where you were supposedly.

“I’m so s-…Y/n?” His head whipped around trying to find you. His heart sunk even further as his eyes finally found you, right in front of the closing doors. “Y/N!”

Now you had everyone’s attention.

“Greenie!” Lewis yelled.

You simply turned your head and looked at the leader. “I got to go save Max.” It was as if you were explaining a simple toy to a toddler, like it was a matter of fact.

“Max is gone Kid. We can’t lose you too,” Lando tried to negotiate and distract you as the doors got closer and closer together.

The doors were so close to closing and Lando thought he was successful. Well, until you bolted and squeezed through the slit. Multiple boys called out for you but it was too late, the doors closed. Logan ran to the metal wall and hit his fist on it multiple times.

On the other side for you, it was silent. An eerie type and not comforting. You tried not to get distracted at the maze-like sequence of walls that stood before you.

Right. You needed to find Max, and fast.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you silently ran and didn’t call out Max’s name. It felt like hours before you finally found him. Your eyes watched as his tried to curl up more, to make himself smaller.

“Maxie?” you whispered.

His head shot up, eyes wide as you walked closer to him.

“Kid? What the hell are you doing here?” he whisper yelled back. You took a seat next to him.

“I couldn’t leave you out here alone.”

Max let out a sigh. “Well, now we’ll both be dead by morning.”

You looked down at his bloodied leg. “What happened?”

“Alex and I were mapping like always when a griever jumped out. They’re not supposed to be out in the daylight, but they were. I ran right and Alex went left. I thought I got away but I tripped. I think my ankle is sprained or broken. Couldn’t make it back to camp.”

You absorbed the information before you stood up and took a vine down from the wall. The middle was stiff like a branch and the smaller vines attached to the leaves were bendable. You quickly made work of Max’s ankle and tied the stiff vines to his leg.

“This should give you enough support so we can get back.”

Max looked at you with wide eyes. “You’re good at this. Why didn’t you become a medjack?”

You giggled as you helped him to his feet. “I couldn’t stand the tension between Nico and Lewis anymore and Logan seemed inviting enough.”

That got a little laugh out of Max.

The two of you made your way to the gate where you camped out all night.

“Thank you kid. I’d be dead without you,” Max mentioned when the doors opened the next morning.

“I know. Look Max, the sunrise!”

“Thanks kid. You know they’re my favorite.”

Two years later

Those days in the Glade were much better than what you’d been through in the past two years. From running through the desert and being chased by zombie people to now sneaking into the giant headquarters to find some type of cure.

Your eyes were now on Max as his head swayed back and forth. He didn’t look good as his face was drenched with sweat.

It had been about a week since he told you that he had been infected. You had cried and cried, promising to find a cure. But that promise seemed to be so far away as you were nowhere closer to finding it.

“Hold on Maxie,” you whispered as you tried to keep him upright. His head was now perched on your shoulder as you continuously looked up in the sky, looking for the rescue helicopter. Charles had disappeared once someone told him that his blood was the cure. He had promised to be back quickly, and that was an hour ago.

Max didn’t have much time left.

A thumping in the air caught your attention as you gently placed him back against a wall. Black goup now started to run out of his mouth. You gently wiped it away before placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Here they come Maxie. Just a few minutes more.” You stood up and turned to try to wave the helicopter in your direction. Your smile grew as it now began to get closer and closer.

“Max we’re going to be…ok.” As you now faced Max, confusion and fear glossed over your figure as he now stood a few feet away from you. His body twitched as his head swayed back and forth.

“Max?”

Your voice seemed to snap Max out of whatever trance he was in as he sudden rushed toward you and knocked you down. You thought this was it as Max’s hands harshly roamed and grabbed at your body. His hands stopped as he found your gun.

He was quick to cock it and bring it to his head. Your hands were quicker and you knocked it out of his hands and it slid across the floor. Max growled down at you and jumped to go get it, but your hands yanked him back. You grabbed the gun and pointed it at your friend.

Your heart broke as you looked at his sickly nature. His eyes cleared to that pretty blue that once always covered his eyes with kindness swarming in the storm. But now, he looked at you with a pleading nature.

“Please, Kid. Please,” he begged, but you couldn’t pull the trigger.

The clearness was quickly wiped away as you finally lost your friend. He managed to get up and sling the gun out of your head. Somehow, he had gotten a knife from his pack on his body and he came swinging. The two of you fought for a moment, before Max suddenly went still.

Oh.

Why did he stop?

Max stumbled back and you finally saw.

Oh.

Your lips quivered as you tried to slow his fall to the ground. You gently laid his head on a rock. He wheezed as he looked up at you. The helicopter wind picked up and your hair started to dance around your face.

Max closed his eyes and his chest rose, fell, and froze.

Your scream was silenced by multiple yells and the deafening sound of the chopper that had finally come. Hands grabbed your arms and ripped you away from your friend. You tried to fight and claw your way back, but the team was too strong.

They sat you down in a seat and allowed you to just cry.

Your eyes caught glimpses of orange and yellow out the open door of the flying machine.

Max would have loved the sunrise.

Earth 1217

“Y/n!” The yell of your team principal caught you attention.

“Yeah?” You set down your race notebook and walked down the office hall. Yes, you hated office days, but at Red Bull you wanted to go over everything that involved you. Call it a bit of a prima-donna attitude, but you weren’t a five time champion or Red Bull’s golden girl for nothing.

“I wanted to take you out to the track. The new recruit is doing his testing laps for next season,” the older Brit mentioned as you joined him in walking down the hallway.

You turned your head. “I though Daniel was up for Checo’s seat?”

Christian sighed and looked down as the two of you walked passed the trophy shelves. Most of them were from you.

“Daniel said he didn’t feel comfortable enough to handle our car. Maybe in a few years after he gets back in the groove in the Alpha Tauri, but not now.”

You snorted. “Guessing Charles is as comfortable as ever being the Prince of Mercedes?”

“Ah yes, your childhood friend-slash-rival did ask me to send his kind regards and told you to watch out for any puddles.” Your eyes rolled at the last statement.

“All right, talk to me. Who else did we ask before you texted me that only said ‘I found him’.”

Christian sighed as he backed his car out. The two of you had gotten to the parking lot in no time and were now headed to the track.

“Well, Lando just renewed his contract with Ferrari, same as Oscar. Lewis, well, he never responded and McLaren never got back to us. Most of them aren’t really looking to be second to you.”

“They’re just mad they’ve been dominated by a woman for five years straight and will be for another three. Maybe after that, someone can be number one.”

The car jerked as he parked it. You stepped out, tennis shoe hitting the ground. They really went well with what you normally wore: skinny jeans, a Red Bull Polo, and your number 1 hat.

The roar of the RB18 caught your attention as your eyes watched it zoom by. A bright yellow helmet caught your attention, but it went around the corner too quickly for you to watch.

Once at the mock garage, you met up with Mitch and junior race engineer GP. Apparently the new recruit had wanted to keep his engineer with him through everything. Which you understood as you brought Mitch over with you after your McLaren days.

“So is this Sargeant? His second place in the championship looked promising, but he was a bit slow,” you mentioned as your sunglasses covered eyes looked around. An angry looking man stood in the corner, bit headphones on his ears.

"No. It's not Sargeant. His name is Max Verstappen. He jumped from F3."

Your eyes narrowed at the big angry man who seemed like he wanted to take a fork to a mechanic. You leaned over to Christian. “My abusive-parent radar is going off. I want him out of the garage.”

Christian once again sighed. “I can’t throw our new driver’s father out of the garage on a hunch.”

You took a sip of your Red Bull. “You did it with my parents.”

“Y/n, they hit you in front of me. I had proof. Just wait a bit and we’ll watch him.”

You huffed. “Fine, but he doesn’t come to any debriefs or meetings.”

“Perfect.” He clapped his hands and your attention was now placed back at the newbie’s times. He was driving just a bit slower than you, but they were marginal tenths and hundredths behind.

Mitch, being the senior engineer, clicked a button. “All right Verstappen, bring it back in.”

“Got it. Thank you!”

You hummed. “Polite kid.”

Your RB18 pulled up and a scraggly kid jumped out of the car. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his dad got off his ass and started to come over. Not wanting anything to happen, you made your way to the boy, cutting him off.

He had just taken his helmet and balaclava off when you reached him. Christian came up and joined you. The boy finally noticed you and looked at you with a gaze of amazement.

“Max right?” you questioned and held out a hand to the Dutch kid.

He nodded, still trying to take in the sight of his role model right in front of him. That’s when he noticed that you were still waiting for him to take your hand. He yanked off a glove and shook your outstretched hand.

“Max Verstappen.”

“How old are you?” You took another sip of your Red Bull and offered Max one as well, who took it quickly.

“I’m nineteen, but I’m turning 20 at the end of September.”

You had a fond smile on your face. You knew what it was like to be thrust into this life at a young age. Hell, Christian took a chance on you when you were just seventeen.

“Who’s your favorite driver?” Mitch questioned, standing behind you. You knew she was teasing the boy as his face got red really quick.

He mumbled, “You.”

You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you look down at the boy. You went to say something else, but he beat you to it. You had a feeling that he might do it more often, but you didn’t mind.

“I, uh, just wanted to say that I’m perfectly fine with being number two driver. I know you’re on a mission to make it to 8 championships. And I’d like to help you do it.”

Your heart may have melted at the confession.

“Well, once I get my 8 championships, let me tell you what. We here at Red Bull like to be record breakers, so I’ll help you make it 9. Sound like a good deal?”

Max’s face lit up at the semi-promise of not just one championship, but nine!

“Sounds good.” A giggle left his lips.

The sun was setting as you were all called for a brief meeting so that Max could sign the contract. Orange and yellows blended in together and bathed the two of you in its glory.

“Ok then, welcome to the team kid!”

Earth 1218 – Present Earth

TikTok had become your addiction when you had spare minutes in your busy life. Videos passed by so quickly, you sometimes didn’t even register what it said. Thankfully though, you managed to not accidentally like anything that could harm your career before it barely got started.

One trend seemed to be very popular at this time. Your fingers would swipe through the photos of various TV and movie characters. The pictures on each slide had the same captions. One being “Do you think we’re together in every universe?” and the other “I sure hope so.”

You’d already asked Arthur and he just rolled his eyes.

“Of course we would be. I think you’re stuck with me wherever you are,” he had told you.

Yet, there was one driver who you really needed to ask. You had already seen versions of this made for multiple driver pairs. The ones of Charles and Max, Oscar and Logan, and Lando and Daniel always made you cry. You couldn’t help it.

But, the ones of you and Max always made your heart happy. You knew that you weren’t the easiest to take care of and you came with baggage. However, Max never made you feel bad about it: he did the opposite. Many times, he made you forget all the bad things in your life by just being there.

You sent him one of the generic ones from someone’s random account.

Little Racer

https.www.tiktok./KID89.192&MAX0133/ Do you think we’re together in every universe?

It took him a few minutes to respond since he was often busier than you were. The season was coming to an end, and his fourth championship was in his grasp.

Big Racer

I’m sure of it kid. Can’t get rid of me that easily.

Little Racer

And you still probably type like a grandpa in every one too! :P

You laughed out loud when three middle finger emojis followed your text. Where you were sitting in the living room of your Monegasque apartment, the sunset caught your eye. You smiled as the rays nearly blinded you, but you were fine. The warmth spread across your cheeks as the rays kissed your face with softness.

You didn’t know what other versions there were of you. You honestly didn’t care. Because as long as you had Max, you’d be just fine.

Across every earth, galaxy, and universe you’d find yourself dreaming of a life you didn’t live, but could only imagine how good everything would be in the end.

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @aeh2 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver

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haztory · 3 months

Text

october 17th ♡

– ceo!kuroo tetsurou x assistant!reader; timeskip au, slow burn, mutual pining

– summary: It’s October 17th. The day of which you can never get a semblance of peace. It’s the start of volleyball season.

part one

a/n: i saw the hq movie and remembered my roots. it's kuroo time. love that man. (w.c.: 6.4k)

It’s October 17th, your desk calendar tells you.

Marked in a quick circle in bold red pen for emphasis. Not like you could forget it, what with the building buzz that seems to escalate with every hour and the excited greetings bubbling in the office. And certainly you couldn’t forget the date with your boss reminding you of it every single chance he could get.

It’s October 17th. The day of which you can never get a semblance of peace. It’s the start of volleyball season. There’s a tally sheet in your mind that holds eight marks— one for every time he’s mentioned the damn day— and it’s not even time for your second cup of coffee.

The most wonderful time of the year, according to Kuroo.

There’s a pep in his step as he juggles his briefcase and files between hands and skips towards his third meeting of the day. His phone is tucked between his ear and shoulder, swarmed in the air of chaos and yet, there’s a wide smile on his face. Toothy and eager, almost maniacal. An exhilarated man, the ringmaster of madness, preparing a show for thousands with only coffee and sheer enthusiasm running through his veins.

The tiles beneath his feet practically turn golden as he passes by.

He stops before your desk on his way out, phone dutifully tucked yet ignored as he meets your gaze with burning excitement. The chatter on the other end of the line is audible, and he really should be listening to it, but instead his focus is maintained on you. You raise a brow in question, fingers hovering over the keyboard to your computer and e-mail to the finance department woefully on hold as your boss stares at you.

Tufts of his hair are pulled in various ways, the standard for a busy morning, and the sleeves of his white button down are rolled up to his elbows displaying the veins that no doubt pulse excitedly; But the most revealing part of him, the most captivating part in his day of havoc, are his eyes.

Honey auburn that burns alight in sheer joy— the kind of happiness that he wants you to revel in, hopes to convey in the intensity of his gaze. Sticky honey brown that coats the inside of your stomach and fills you with warmth. A gleam that can make flowers bloom with just his simple gaze.

Slowly, he points his finger towards your calendar that’s displayed clearly for the regular passerby. Fingertip presses the red circle on the paper, emphasizing the words scribbled inside of it detailing the events of the day.

1st Day of Volleyball Season!

His smile splits his face into two. You add another tally to the sheet.

Indulging him with a grin would be encouraging juvenile behavior, so it takes everything in you to bite back the tugging of your lips and instead roll your eyes. It doesn’t deter him. He all but clicks his heels together as he prances out the door, throwing his fist holding his briefcase in the air with a silent cheer, and answering whatever question was posed to him on the other end of his line.

It’s October 17th, Kuroo’s favorite day of the year.

Yours, too.

Although, you would never tell him that.

The starting game of MSBY vs. Tachibana Red Falcons is a match predicted to be vicious and brutal. Considering Japan’s top players had more than proved themselves to be powerhouses during the Nations League Tournament over the summer, the star power and media attention given to the players has given the entrance game to the season an anticipation that could not be tamed— not that anyone in the marketing department would want it to be.

The players this year have been nothing short of top tier athleticism— a detail that so graciously fell into the JVA’s hands and became their capitalized advertisement.

An unmatched season! A trial of power and speed! Japan’s best players go head-to-head in the best playoffs Japan has ever seen!

Kuroo practically played the lottery every morning with luck like this.

The Ariake Arena fills up like a lightning flood, waves of bodies decorated with black and red filling seats with heightened excitement. It vibrates throughout the stadium, transcends beyond the high beams and open space. It fills and suffocates until all that can be seen, heard, and felt is pure, unadulterated energy. It’s a straight shot of adrenaline to the heart. It’s the taste of a sweet memory.

The sound of excitement from guests and vendors steadily rises and Kuroo buzzes in place. His shoes tap incessantly on the wooden floor, fingers flutter with anticipation as he adjusts, then readjusts, the now wrinkled tie across his neck. His cheeks ache from the endless smile that pushes on them.

Carefully moved chess pieces, endless phone calls, and retina-burning contracts with sponsors have finally gotten him here: To the sweet smell of cool conditioned air and freshly waxed floors, to the sounds of chants and joy, to the sight of his successfully pitched logo printed beneath Miya Atsumu’s smug face on the large banner tacked on the left side of the arena. The veneration on his face is one that finds itself familiar to veterans. Standing on the shining hardwood of the court, his hands finally find rest on his hips, his gaze stilling at the sight of his months-long work.

Pride doesn’t really do much justice to the feelings inside of him— but damn if it isn’t a close enough guess. His hard work finally actualized, but it’s only just really beginning. This is where his fun begins, the shining light, the gentle reminder of how much he loves his job.

October 17th, the best day of the year.

“We need to see the players before warm-ups begin.” Kuroo says after a moment, not even needing to spare a glance backwards to see if you’ve heard him. Such is the consequence of having a good assistant, one that, even with all the eye rolls and dragging sighs, is always a step ahead of him.

“Coach Foster said that he could spare us ten minutes before he gives his locker room speech. Coach Sato said the same.” You tell your boss, stepping beside him as his eyes follow the movements of staff members dragging carts of volleyballs to their respective places. An approving look settles on his face, a delightful perusal.

There's a tablet held in your arms as you notate on a timetable, presumably a schedule with detailed notes that Kuroo has to be on in order for the evening to go well. Probably one you've put a lot of time and effort into. Knowing you, it’s probably color coded. A schedule that he would do well by both you and the company in abiding by.

He shoves his hand between the tablet and your fixed stare, wiggling his fingers obnoxiously in front of the work that holds your dutiful attention. "Stop paying attention to that and look around you. Smell the air! What is it you smell?"

The excitement held so passionately in his eyes bore into your unimpressed ones. "Stale popcorn and lemon cleaner, Kuroo-san."

"So negative, I think the long work days are finally getting to you."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not mine. You love me too much to quit." He grins. He gestures his hand outward, panning it across the stadium to the sight of guests filling the seats. "It's the smell of anticipation! The promise of a worthwhile game! How can you not be excited?”

A ping resounds on your tablet that draws your gaze back down to the schedule. It’s a message from the volunteer coordinator. You write a note in the margin—volunteers in break room at 8:45, give thanks and gifts at 9.

"It’s hard to be excited when you keep yapping in my ear about what day it is." You mutter distractedly.

"You're telling me," Suddenly his fingers are poking into the skin of your cheeks, lifting the skin upward in a manufactured smile, "You look frightening."

You swat his hands away, your own palms connecting with his in a vicious slap. "If we don't get started now you're going to be late in meeting the President of the JVA at his box seats."

Kuroo waves his hand nonchalantly. "Ah, he'll wait for me. I am the reason we’ve got a turnout like this. It's the least he could do."

You roll your eyes, formality lost as you address your boss. "It's about the principle of it, Tetsu. He'll be upset."

"Have you forgotten what day it is? How can anyone be upset on this day?"

You stare at him in violent silence clearly exposing the extent of your disdain for him at this moment. It’s a futile endeavor. Your stare only fuels the fire of his need for provocation tenfold. His smile widens, teeth bearing a shit-eating grin. With little remorse, you tell him, "You're very annoying when you're happy."

His head tilts backward in a laugh, lean and tall figure elongating with the motion as he, genuinely, finds himself amused. “And you're even meaner than usual when I am. C’mon, let’s pay the Jackals a visit.” Accompanying the turn of his body, he taps the tip of your nose with his slender finger and begins a trek towards the main entrance leading to the corridors of the arena.

“No.” Your quick retort is the popping of a balloon. He deflates, hands thrown upward in exasperation as he turns around to face you once more. You swear he stomps his feet.

"God, what now?"

“Favoritism.”

He balks with a furrow on his brow, “Pardon?”

“Favoritism. It’s obvious to everyone in this building who you’re rooting for, so we need to minimize those details before someone catches wind and decides to tell the press that the games are rigged.”

“Now, that is an outrageous idea. No respectable reporter would use my words against me.” Kuroo smiles, annoyingly, confidently. To which your stare only digs further into him, the infamous memory of last year’s season playing quite clearly across your face in which his sarcastic comment about players salaries made headlines and resulted in a week of endless phone calls to your office.

“JVA DIRECTOR STATES DIV. ONE PLAYERS WILL NOT RECEIVE SPONSORSHIP BONUSES AFTER ASTOUNDING SEASON AS ‘WE DON’T PAY FOR MEDIOCRITY AND THESE PLAYERS SUCK, OBVIOUSLY’.”

It’s the conveyance of death in your eyes alone that really gets him going. Truly, there’s no one more impressive than you.

“I said, respectable.” Kuroo emphasizes, hardly batting an eye as you walk past him.

“C’mon. Coach Sato is waiting with the Falcons.”

“The favoritism allegation is ridiculous. Ask around the office, no one is able to tell that you’re my least favorite of them all.” He follows you into the hallway without prompting like the well-trained dog you’ve made him to be, “That’s how good I am.”

You turn back to look at him, “Oh, sure. So the names Bokuto and Hinata don’t mean anything to you?”

Biting back a smirk, he says, “I have no idea who you’re referring to.”

—

In the aftermath of a worthwhile game and an impressive start to the season, the stadium quickly finds itself abandoned. Scores of people taking to the street to celebrate their win or drink their sorrows away, their raucous din and lived delight exiting with them, leaving only a barren arena—save for the remaining staff who dutifully tidy the empty aisles and clean the floors. Yet, even with their humble presence, it’s quiet. Only the light echoing of shoes and brooms on the floor, the rolling of carts, the sounds of vacuums filling the space and providing life.

And standing on the second floor of the arena, leaning his body against the railing overlooking the court, Kuroo finally gets a second to just look.

There are very few times in which Kuroo is quiet. Or rather, there are very few times where he gets the chance to be.

It’s hard to walk the line between professional and man, not that he does a good job at it on a regular day. It's an all-consuming persona and his job demands the full devotion of mind, body, and spirit despite the relative nonurgency that comes with being a Marketing Director. And while he’s never been known for his outstanding polish as a young professional— particularly within the confines of his office— Kuroo has never not been one to commit. What is demanded of him is what he gives, and more.

These days he’s finding it almost impossible to switch the hat of boss for the one of man. The lines between the two become even more blurred with each passing day that he spends another sleepless night in the office, attends another soul sucking meeting that could have truly just been an email, brown noses at people with titles and credentials that he cannot bear to remember for the sake of money.

Humanity slowly depletes when met with the four walls of an office that never changes shades. Moments like this are brief allowances. The empty stadium is conducive to the quick slip into a memory, the removal of the permanent hat for the other one.

The game played not even an hour ago is replaced with that of what he remembers. The once erratic beat of his heart before the blown whistle, the feel of burning muscles in his calves, and the sting of the ball on his skin; He can almost taste the salt of the disappointment of a lost match, and the sweetness of the joy the game gave him. If he tries, Kuroo can recall the last time that he was on a court just like the one before him and remember just how wonderful it once was.

The sweet memory of it all. A sliver of happiness that he keeps stowed away in the back of his mind, meant only to be pulled out in times of emergency. When life gets too loud and work becomes exactly what it is—work. It’s the needed reprieve, the gentle vice. But much like everything else these days, it lasts for only a lingering moment before it fades into the nothingness of everything else.

There isn’t one particular thought that he can train on. He couldn’t even tell anyone what exactly it is that he thinks about, for it all blends together into the great variation of everything. A hectic whirlwind of things that fall over one another as they fight to take his attention.

The game schedule for tomorrow, the invoices he needs to have approved, the mountain of unread emails relating to a media sponsorship that needs to be finalized by the end of the month, the leadership training that he needs to attend next week. Seeing Bokuto and Hinata before the game was a slip of the hat into the relative calm of youth that he remembers so fondly, he should probably try and hang out with them more. His social life is already pitiful. There’s also the fact that he has to go grocery shopping since he just ran out of instant noodles, unless he wants to have takeout again—but he’s already racked up quite the bill this month in takeout alone and he hasn’t been able to go to the gym enough to counteract those great decisions. He needs to return his sister’s phone call, something he keeps prolonging, not because he doesn’t care to know the details about his nephew’s birthday party next Sunday but rather because that will inevitably lead to the discussion about their father’s well-being and truthfully, that’s not a can of worms he’s willing to open just yet. And also—

“Hey.”

Kuroo’s head snaps towards the intrusion, towards the voice that cuts through the storm of flying thoughts and stills them in their rampage.

You stand behind him, your blazer thrown over your purse and the sleeves of your dress shirt rolled up to your elbows. Your hair is no longer the neat style you had at the beginning of the event, but instead the reflection of a long work day. Your own work hat stowed somewhere deep in your purse, in favor of someone he’s rather fond of.

“Hey.” He returns, surprised but pleased. He had figured at the end of the game you would have made haste with the exiting crowd. Your duties done for the day, the schedule you made him stick to like glue finished and completed. Any other person would have run for the doors and be home by now.

But, here you are. Standing with a content smile on your face and a softening in your eyes as you meet his gaze. (Truthfully, he should know better. You’ve never been one to just leave without telling him, whether directly or through email, for home or for a date. Hell, you all but yell your plans in his face just to reduce the risk of confusion. But he assumes, still, that you’re smarter than him. That you know when to call it quits on a work day and head home.

He conveniently forgets that, above all, you’re good at your job. You never listen, too stubborn and insistent on doing your duties even when he tells you to go home early; to not worry about the final details on a draft or a missed message; tells you that he can handle it. That’s never been you, because aside from being fantastic at being his assistant, you’ve been committed to your craft no matter what it is. You care too much about your job and the things it affects.

Because that’s who you are. It’s who you’ve always been. It’s what he knows to be true and violent about you, and it's what he’s been able to see blossom since working with you. So, of course you’re here. Waiting for him, because that’s what you do. Commit to being there for him, through and through.

Because you’re his assistant, of course.

Just his assistant. That’s all.)

He stands straighter, manners not entirely drilled out of his subconscious, even if he was distracted. A beat passes, he looking at you and you looking at him, before he, finally, extends a hand— inviting you to join him. You do, settling next to him on the rail, and gazing over the object of his fixation.

It’s a content silence. The inhale of the aftermath, the exhale of the preparation. One you both know the extent of, have shared too many late nights for. There’s great relief in being able to revel in the fruits of one’s labor, but there’s something all the more satisfying in knowing someone else was basking in that reward too. In not being entirely alone, despite the job often making him feel.

This is your moment just as much as it is his, something he’s never been more convinced of.

Much of the success belonging to him would be nothing if not for your firm foundation, the depth of your support for not only him, but the game. The wondrous, joyous game.

It’s only a moment or two of the stillness between you two before you gently disturb it.

“Today went well.” You tell him.

He gives an affirmative hum, a small smile befalling on his face. Folding his arms across his chest, he tilts his head from side to side in consideration. “You don’t think the banner was too big?”

“It’s no bigger than it usually is.” You shrug and he hums again.

Another beat, then he says, “Did you notice the photo?”

“On the banner?” You ask.

“Yeah.”

“I did.”

“Good.” He says, resolutely, looking over the arena once more as two staff members begin folding up the commentators chairs on the sidelines of the court, “You chose it.”

“I know.” You say. He smiles again, a happy and content one; and you would tease him about it— (about the fact that he’s smiling as though this were a great victory fought between the marketing department and the photography studio, one that he emerged victorious in fighting tooth and nail for your input instead of the reality of the situation.

It was a cloudlink sent to his email on a Tuesday afternoon, filled with prints of various D1 players that he was asked to provide input on. A task that he, then, delegated to you by calling you into his office on your lunch break and having you play eenie-meenie-miny-moe with him. With a sandwich held firmly in your hand and Kuroo pecking at his snack bag of trail mix, you point to the smug face of Miya Atsumu.

“It’s because of the smile, right?” He had asked, his eyes squinting and head tilted to the side as though that would give him better understanding of the man’s face. “He’s a great player. He just has the look of a winner.”

“I don’t know. I just think he’s hot.” You tell him simply.

Kuroo chokes on a peanut. You laugh. He sends your choice over to the graphic design team.)

—but you let him have the small win. Four years of working together has taught you which of the battles to fight, and truthfully, there aren’t that many that you don’t give to him. Admitting sucha thing, however, would be a violation of everything you hold dear to your job so you obviously omit that.

Kuroo speaks once more, his voice soft as he continues to regard the court. “You did a good job today.”

There’s no tease in him, no wry smile or setup for a joke that you’re clearly walking into. For all intents and purposes, Kuroo Testurou stands before you as a man with more than his guard down. He stands honestly, made soft and tender by the trials of a hard work day and the victory of his labor.

The kind of man you know him to be, that you hold such deep admiration for.

“Thank you, Tetsu.” For fear of disrupting the quiet that surrounds the arena or fear of shattering the genuineness of the moment, you respond in kind. Equally gentle when you tell him earnestly, honestly, “So did you, but that’s not new.”

You feel it before you can even see or hear it. The turning of the tide, the impending slant of his smile; The red alert alarm that you have built into your head for Tetsurou’s moments of snarkiness blaring loudly.

The taunt is on its way and you begin a rebuttal before he even opens his mouth. Kuroo’s face contorts into an exaggerated look of disbelief.

“We were having—”

“I cannot believe it—”

“—a nice moment!”

“—Is that a compliment I hear?”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your head away from him. “If you’re going to act like that—”

“No, no! Can’t take it back. You said it already.”

“Nope. I formally recant my statement—”

“Ooh, big word—”

“—I forswear what I said—”

“—Forswear?! How do you even know what that means?”

“—You did an adequate job. Actually, you did exactly what was expected of you. Nothing more.”

“C’mon, give me some credit. You weren’t expecting me to land that invite for that GQ party next month. And how did I do that? Remind me one more time?” Kuroo leans his head towards you, tapping his ear repeatedly.

“By doing your job.” You insist and he throws his head to the side in hurt.

“By being the best at my job.”

“They invited you because you were badgering them in the box seats. What did you bribe them with?”

He levels a steady smirk at you, “Sounds like someone doesn’t want to go.”

You gasp, eyes narrowing, “You wouldn’t.”

“Admit it, then.” He grins.

“Admit what! That I kept you on schedule for the day so that you could actually do your job and get us the invites? Then I will admit that I did my job excellently.” You poke your finger into his chest repeatedly and he laughs.

He agrees with a small nod of his head, smiling widely, knowingly. “You did.”

“I did.” You affirm. “And with enough time to factor in potty breaks. Plural.”

Kuroo laughs again, incredulously, “Potty. Who even says that anymore?”

“Me. Your lovely, amazing assistant that you are definitely taking to the GQ party.”

Kuroo’s gaze fixes on yours, held firmly as the grin lingering so resolutely on his face reaches up to his eyes. The conversation peters out into another gentle silence, ambers meeting yours in a steady embrace, and voicing what remains to be said. Held tightly by the reciprocity of your own gaze.

It happens, then. The quiet kindling that has become so familiar between he and you. The settling of a warmth between the space that has been occurring more frequently; Found only in times like this. When laughter dissipates and ease takes over. When it becomes glaringly obvious that you enjoy your boss’s company a little more than you probably should, and that he doesn’t necessarily mind you all that much. There isn’t much to say about it even though your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and fiction dictates that this is the moment where someone should say something.

But what is there to say at this moment to the man who signs your paychecks? Who eggs you on in ways that no one would even bother to do? What could you express other than profound admiration and deep annoyances over his character? What could you tell him that he doesn’t already know?

(Maybe the truth that is buried deep within you. One that you haven’t admitted to yourself because honestly, you aren’t even sure you believe it yourself.

There’s bound to be affections shared between two people who work in such close proximity as you two. Regard, appreciation, fondness— but not that. No, it couldn’t be that. That would be ridiculous.

Because he’s your boss, of course.

Just your boss. That’s all.)

“You should go home,” Tetsurou is the first to break the stare. Fortunately, too, lest you become too absorbed in your thoughts and do something stupid like risking getting lost in the eyes of amber. He turns his attention to his hands on the railing, his thumb tapping repeatedly on the metal. “Get some rest. You deserve it, keeping me in line and all.”

He bumps his shoulder into yours.

“Are you heading home soon?” You ask.

He shrugs, before looking to the court once more. “In a minute. I’m going to stay for a little longer. Not ready to go home yet.”

You hum, “Then I’ll stay with you.”

There’s a beat of silence, one that, when you glance towards him you expect to see filled with amusement. Maybe a tease on his tongue once more about how hard you work, about how miserable you’ll be in the morning for staying up past your bedtime. Instead, you see only the calm stillness of his face, eyes fixed resolutely on the empty court before him.

He leans forward onto the railing, bracing his elbows against its fixture, watching the scene below him as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. Four janitors taking a break from their waxing of the floor to play a quick, and sloppy, game of volleyball. Soft laughter echoes throughout the room, broken apart by low mutterings of commentary on their plays that sends the four older men into even further laughter.

Then, “Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I went pro.”

To learn of other people in the course of a years-long friendship is natural, rightfully expected— and while there is much of Kuroo that you do know and can recite off the top of your head, the willful admittance of intimate details, especially in quiet times like this, is always surprising. Especially when coupled with the contemplative silence that follows his words, the genuine wonder, the longing written on his face as the rose thoughts of a first love bloom in the cracks of a fallen smile.

In the softening of his eyes and the deep sigh that he releases, you realize that there’s a Kuroo Tetsurou that you don’t know.

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, you reach out to find him. You ask, softly. “Why did you stop playing?”

His eyes remain trained on the court, as though the answer were laid upon the hardwood floors. “It was time. I loved the game but, I don’t know. Just didn’t make sense for me to keep it going. There were other things I needed to do, and playing professionally would have taken up too much time.”

You can almost see it, then. A younger Tetsurou, even more chaotic and rowdy than you know him to be, with hopes and dreams that exist somewhere in the great web of could have been’s, cast to the side because of the “other things”. You don’t pry, not when he’s already being so forthcoming as it is, but you make a note. Store it away in the folder lodged deep in your mind dedicated to the man.

“Would you be happier if you did?” You ask, albeit hesitantly. Not entirely sure what you would do with the answer.

He rolls his broad shoulders gently, like a tide rolling in under itself, swayed under its own pressure and maybe that should mean something. “Well, it’s not like I’m unhappy. I’ve got a good life, good job, good people. I’ve got it all.”

He spares a quick glance to you. So quick you wouldn’t have caught it had he not already been the centerpoint of your fixed stare, but truthfully, when is he not? When is he not the center of your gaze, your life, your world? Everything in your routine seems to start and end with Kuroo Tetsurou.

“But I can’t deny how much I miss the game.”

—you don’t mind all that much. Especially not when he’s like this. Open, sensitive, and wanting to talk. When he actually takes the time to chew his thoughts out and speak them into existence rather than continue his sordid and pointed teases.

You lean forward onto the railing. “Do you think you would have made it far?”

He adjusts his figure next to yours. His crooked elbow touches yours, but he makes no move to remove it. “Well… I hate to brag, but…”

You scoff. “You do.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Hard to say.” He shrugs his shoulders wryly. “In another life, I’m still playing.”

It sounds sadder than he intends it to be, but it’s the truth. And you get it; have your own could-have’s stored deep in the recesses of your mind, your own forgotten dreams about who you wanted to be that haunt and plague in the twilight of hard nights where sleep is elusive and quarter-life crises spring forth in the darkness—but it’s not all bad.

“Well, in this other life, if you’re playing and I just so happened to know you,” You tell him, “I would be your biggest fan.”

He huffs at that. Looking at you with a tilt of his head and a handsome smile on his face. “Oh yeah? And if you didn’t?”

“I’d be Miya Atsumu’s biggest fan.” You say simply.

“You already are.”

“Yeah, but I know you have jealousy issues so I just don’t say anything about it.”

Tetsurou nods his head. Amused. “Well I’m glad to know you, then.”

It happens here, again.

The quiet kindling, the lingering warmth. With hopes and dreams laid out before you, and the brief allowance into the depths of his intimate details he holds tightly under the weight of himself, do you find the familiarity of the man again. The one you know, the one who laughed so hard at your banana costume that milk came out of his nose. The one who canceled all of his meetings for the day when you broke your pinky finger in the office and who stayed with you in the hospital until a cast was put on.

The one who smiles at you so gently, as if you are someone important. The one you can’t help but smile right back at. Kuroo Tetsurou, your boss, a friend.

Movement in the corner of your eye draws your attention to the court. The janitors that were once playing amongst each other slowly begin to stray from the court, picking up their brooms and exiting towards the sidelines. Looking at Tetsurou, you find that he’s still looking at you.

“They’re not closing the stadium for another hour. And it looks like the janitors have had their fun.” You say, “Wanna play a quick game?”

His brows raise to his hairline, “You know how to play?”

“We had to choose a sport to play for gym class back in high school and it was either tennis or volleyball. So I guess you can say I know a thing or two.”

“Ah, a professional.”

“Mhm. I’m here to give you a run for your money.”

Tetsurou pushes himself off the railing, standing to his full height as he accepts the offer. Towering over you at his 6’5 height, he begins rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, cuffing the white material until it reaches the crook of his elbow. A quick glance to the revealed skin is only a firm reminder of what you had pointedly forgotten. Long slender fingers attached to a thick and veiny forearm, sculpted through years of volleyball practice and continued exercise.

If he wanted to, he definitely could have made it professionally. You almost choke on your spit.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” Tetsurou gives you a smile that rivals the smugness of Miya Atsumu in that stupid banner and you know for a fact that in that other life, you would’ve been Kuroo Tetsurou’s biggest fan whether you knew him or not— and not because he was a good player.

—

“You need to lock your elbows.”

“They’re locked!”

“No they’re not. Look at this,” Tetsurou steps underneath the net, approaching you in long strides before tapping his fingers against the elbows of your interlocked hands. He watches with little impression as your arms swing easily with his force, “Noodles. How are you supposed to receive with this?”

“I’m trying but it’s not comfortable!”

“So you’d rather suck?”

“Kinky.” You say with a waggle of your brows and he rolls his eyes.

“Stop it. Here, you need to—” Without a second thought, he steps behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and fixing your hands. wrapping your right hand over your left and running the length of his warm touch down your forearms. Innocuous and gentle, but stiffening as you breathe in the musky scent of his cologne and the faded scent of his aftershave, and feel the hard planes of his chest press against your back.

“Straighten your elbows,” He mutters, voice heavy beside your ear. “And keep them locked. Helps you to have a steady receive for any kind of ball. If your form is perfect then you can always pass the ball using this part, here.” His right index finger touches the surface of your forearm, running between the length of your elbow and wrist to accentuate his point.

It isn’t a matter of fireworks when he touches you, the exploding kind that has butterflies and goosebumps erupting over the expanse of your skin. It isn’t as though your eyes have suddenly been peeled open and the realization has struck you hard across the face like every romance story that preaches about the magic of the first touch, the electricity of meeting hands across the table, the sudden realization of knowing.

No, this is entirely different. A comforting touch, not uncommon, but intimate and while it doesn’t have you reeling in revolutionary realization, nor does it have you fanning yourself from the flames of sudden desire, his touch does, eerily, have you sinking in further. There’s no fluttering and flustering with the confusion of flooding feelings, but rather, it has you looking at his hands with a slight furrow.

Wondering, when his hands suddenly got so soft, yet so firm. Wondering, in what part of the intertwining of his life with yours did his touch suddenly not only become okay, but felt as though it belonged?

Were this any other man, you would have a harassment claim sent to HR before he could even get near you. But it’s Tetsurou; And when his slender fingers wrap gently around your wrist, turning them upward slightly, you don’t go rigid in his embrace, but instead fall into it. Settle into his grasp, entrust yourself in his hands.

Because how could you not?

“Like this?” You ask, quietly. No need to exert volume considering he’s right next to you. In search of approval in how you’ve adjusted your hands, you turn your head to the side to look at him, only to realize how close he is to you. Eyes able to see the steady pulse of the clench in his jaw as he focuses on your form, the sharp angle of his jaw, the closely shaven hairs of his stubble.

“Yeah, just like that. Good.” He answers, before removing his hands and bracing them against your shoulders, straightening your posture for the receives that you are no longer focused on getting.

If Kuroo Tetsurou turned his head to you, there would be nothing stopping his nose from bumping into yours. You must be silent, too caught up in the overwhelming nature of it all because he’s suddenly stiffening from his position over you. Then, at a speed you’ve never seen him move before, he’s rescinding his body entirely from you. And it should sting. The speed at which your boss acted as though you physically burned him, his body essentially repulsed from touching you.

He’s putting great space between you two as he ducks back under the net to his side of the court, yelling over his shoulder, “T-that should fix it. Try, uh, try now. Try serving.”

“I thought I was receiving?” You ask his retreating figure and he stills, considering for a moment, before waving his hand in the air— obviously embarrassed and confused at the fact that he’s just jeopardized everything and made his assistant uncomfortable.

“Whatever, just give it back to me.” He says, frustratedly.

And you allow yourself, just for a brief moment, to store another could-have in the sanctity of your fantasies. One where he isn’t your boss, and you aren’t his assistant, and you are able to admit to the true and honest parts of yourself—

“Nice return! See? Better already.”

—you rather liked the way he touched you.

a/n: HEEEEELP i love him your honor. sorry for always ghosting. i wish i could say i wont, but i know i will. lol

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabbles #hq fluff #kuroo tetsurou fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou

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wifeofnatasharomanoff · 2 years

Text

You Can Be The Boss

Warnings: Smut, g!p Nat, light angst?, pregnancy

Words: 2,782

Summary: You slept with your boss, what happens now?

A/N: who doesn't want CEO Nat yk? Remember to drink water and eat everyone, ily all <3

You were the assistant to one of the most powerful, and rich CEO in all of New York. Natasha Romanoff.. she was a strict, straightforward type of boss, frankly you didn't quite adore her, you were more scared of her, and you would gladly accept a job offer from anyone else. But you never got any, and this was probably the most paying job you could ever work at.

You step into the elevator, making your way to the top floor to hand Miss Romanoff her daily caffeine. A ding noise follows as you reach to the top floor. Sighing, you knock on her office door. “Come in.” you open the door, avoiding eye contact. “Ah, Miss Y/l/n. What brings you to my office?” you hold up the cup of coffee, placing it on her desk. “Y/n. I have a request– more like an order, really.”

You nod, waiting for her to finish speaking. “I need my assistant, you. For the work event this Friday, clear your schedule, or plans if you had any.” you did, in fact have plans. “I'm so sorry Miss Romanoff but, my friend's out for work on Friday and she asked me to watch her son.” she raised a brow, looking over at you from her desk.

“So? It was an order Miss Y/l/n, I expect you to follow it.” you dryly swallow, “Y-yes I'm sorry it won't happen again.” she watches you for a few more seconds, “Now get out, you have paperwork to do no?” you nod nervously, walking over to the door. “Bye!”

You exit her office, going back down to your floor.

“God I wish she was less m–” the elevator door opens, it's her sister who was pretty much your work best friend. “Yelena!” “Hey sestra, Natasha's still picking on you?” you let out a nervous laugh, “Uh.. no! No– she's fine.” she gives you an assuring smile, “If you need to be saved from her, I'm one call away.” she enters the elevator, as you step out of it. “Bye 'Lena!” she waves goodbye before the elevator doors close.

You take your phone out, calling your friend. “Hey! I'm sorry, but um.. something came up, and I can't watch your son today. I can pay for a sitter if you want?” "No! No, that's okay Y/n.." you hear loud noises from the background, "Put that down! .. I'm so sorry, he's being annoying all day, I have to go, so.. bye—" you turn off your phone, walking into your office.

You sigh, sitting down onto your office chair. The keys on your keyboard clacking, you type, responding to emails. A knock on your door, “Yeah?” the red-head walks through, “Miss y/l/n, I don't care if you have anything against it. I ordered you a dress for Friday..” she trails off, looking down at you.

You clear your throat, “Uh.. Miss Romanoff?” her gaze flickers back to your face, “That's– that's all, I'll be going now.” you nod, “Bye!” she gets up and goes to the door, “Bye.”

You hear the door close shut, you furrow your brows in confusion. “What was she looking at?” you mutter to yourself. You face the desk mirror, gasping quietly. “Ohh– oh.” you bring your hands up to your blouse, buttoning the top button.

You look back at the computer, seeing you received an email. "I'll be picking you up at 7 pm on Friday night. Don't be late." You find yourself smiling at her email.

The week flies by pretty quickly, Tuesday going to Friday. Your apartment bell rings, you go to open it, just to see a box with the words, "Y/n /Y/l/n, from: Natasha Romanoff." You assume it's the dress she was talking about the other day. You pick up the box, closing your door.

You open the box, emitting a gasp. It was beautiful, a gorgeous deep emerald. You pull out the dress from the box, lifting it up to see it in full view. It was modest but with an off shoulder cut. "Did you like the dress?" You look over at your phone, seeing her text pop-up.

"Yes, thank you! I'm so sorry if it was over-priced." She hearts your message, "No worries, I have the money for it. Think of it as a gift Y/n." You smile at her message, not knowing what to respond with, all you do it just heart her message and turn off your phone.

You check the time, "5:24 pm" “Shit. I'm gonna be late.” you get up, grabbing the dress and running off into your room to go get ready.

An hour and a half later, your doorbell rings. You scramble out of your room, struggling to put on a heel. You open the door, “Miss Romanoff! Hi– I'm..” you slip on your heel, grabbing your purse. “I'm– ready, shall we go?” she nods. You step out of your apartment, locking the door and walk down to the parking lot.

She drives off, leaving your apartment complex. “I'm sorry that you have to drive me.” she glances at you, “Don't be sorry, I offered.” you hum in response, looking out the window. “How long till we get there?” she pulls up to a parking space, “We're here already.” you respond with an, "oh."

She gets out of the car, you get out as well.

You two step into the building, you gasp in awe looking around the place, you feel a nudge on your shoulder. “I'm gonna go talk to some other guests, don't do anything you aren't supposed to.” you nod, watching her leave.

You walk over to the bar, picking up a glass of champagne. “I haven't seen a beauty like you here before.” you look up to see a blonde woman, “My name's Carol Danvers, you can call me Carol sweetheart.” you blush, “Hi– uh.. I'm Miss Romanoff's assistant.”

She smirks, handing you a drink. You accept it, “Romanoffs assistant huh?” you nod, “If she's too tough on you, feel free to come by at my office.” you laugh slightly, “Thanks for the offer.” she brings her hand up to your face, tucking in a stray hair strand behind your ear.

“I believe she likes it here, isn't that right Y/n?” Natasha walks up behind you, holding a glass of wine. You freeze, looking up at Carol. “Um.. yeah–” you hand Carol the drink back, “Don't be so harsh on her,” her gaze lingers on you, “She's my assistant if she didn't like how I treat her she would've quit by now.”

You feel as if you've gone invisible, watching the two women bicker. A few time passes by, Carol leaves the bar, you and Natasha just stand there. “Come on Y/n let's take you home.” you hazily look up at her, nodding slowly.

She takes you back to the car, driving off. “Mmh.. Natasha–” she glances at you, “You're drunk Y/n.” you smile at her words, poking her cheek. “No you're drunk!” she rolls her eyes, eventually making it to your apartment building.

“We're here, wake up.” you flutter your eyes open, looking up at her. “Walk me up?” she looks back at you, sighing. “Okay fine.” she helps you out of the car, and you two get into the elevator to your floor.

You unlock your apartment door, “Miss Romanoff are you mad at me?” she looks at you, “Why would I be?” you shrug, walking inside your home. “You can come in if you want.” she hesitates for a moment, but steps inside anyways.

“Do you.. want me to make food?” you offer, “Or—” you get cut off with a pair of lips crashing against yours, you moan into the kiss. Her hands roam around your body, finding the zipper on your dress and unzipping it.

She backs you up into your bedroom, shoving you onto your bed. You let out a gasp, “Yeah, I guess I was mad at you.” she hoists your legs over her shoulders, you watch her slip off her pants. She makes eye contact with you, you nod giving her consent.

You feel her hardened cock on your clothed clit, letting out a small whimper. “Let's get that off of you, hm detka?” you nod vigorously, bringing your hands down to your panties and taking it off. She gropes your waist, lining her tip to your entrance.

She pushes a few inches inside your throbbing core, making you emit a loud, breathy moan. “Fuck.. you're so tight. Taking me all in, just like that— good girl.” her words make you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

“Miss Romanoff I'm gonna—” she feels you tense up, “Do it baby, cum all over my cock.” your walls clench around her length, a wave of pleasurement crashes down on you, you scream out her name over and over again.

She thrusts in deeper into you, smirking down at you. “Mmh.. kotenok, gonna fill you up huh?” you mumble something out, getting cut off with a loud moan.

She comes inside of you, collapsing on top of your chest, panting heavily. “Y/n? You okay?” you hum as a response, nodding as you catch your breath as well.

“Uh.. I'll be going now– see you on Monday.” she slowly pulls out of you, putting her clothes back on. “Yeah! Yeah– see you on Monday too.” she smiles at you before leaving you alone in your bedroom.

The weekend passed, and you find yourself getting on the elevator to Natasha's office holding her coffee as usual. You sigh and knock on her door, “Come in.” you open the door, she freezes, and looks over at you. “Y/n.” you put the cup on her desk, “Yeah?”

She pauses, “Listen about Friday night..” you look up at her, listening intently. “It was wrong, we were both drunk and– I'm your boss, you're my assistant. If anyone found out it would be bad. So I'm trying to tell you to forget about it.”

You nod, exhaling shakily. “I understand, don't worry.” she smiles at you, “Thank you, you're free to leave now.” you walk to the door, waving goodbye.

You go back to your office, signing papers. You hear a knock on your door, followed by a, “It's me!” you smile, “The doors open 'Lena.” the blonde opens the door, flashing a big smile at you. “How did the party on Friday go?” you groan, “God, don't remind me.” she furrows her brows in confusion, sitting down on a chair.

“What happened sestra?” you chew on the inside of your cheek, looking at her. “You really wanna know?” “Yes? If somethings bothering my work sister of course I want to know.” you sigh, “Don't tell anyone.” she takes a deep breath, “Oh so it's that bad.” you nod meekly.

“Isleptwithyoursister.” “Slow down, what?” you look down at your hands. “I.. slept with my boss– who happens to be your sister.” she widens her eyes, processing what she has just been told. “Oh. Natasha!? Seriously Y/n?” you nod. She burst out laughing, “I thought you had good taste.” you frown, “So.. you're not mad?” she shakes her head, “Why would I be?”

“What did she tell you?” you look at her, confusion displayed on your face. “After—” “Ohh.” you grab a pen from your desk, fidgeting it. “Um.. she said that it was a mistake and– to forget about it.” she looks back at you, “She what?” you nod.

She gets up from the chair, “Well, I'm gonna go. I'll see you later sestra.” you smile, waving her bye. “Bye Yelena!” she mouths bye, opening the door and leaving.

She goes up to Natasha's office, opening the door, too bothered to knock. “Hey 'Lena.” she walks up to her desk. “It was a mistake?” Natasha looks at her with a confused look. “Y/n.” “Who told you tha– oh.”

“Why would you say that to her? Natasha.” she sighs, dropping her attention from the computer to Yelena. “Because I'm scared.” she looks up at her sister. “For?” “She, I love her. I do, really. But–” Natasha pauses, looking at Yelena. “But the media wouldn't approve.. So? Natasha it's your life.”

“You have until next week to tell her how you feel.” Natasha widens her eyes, opening her mouth to argue. “Because I know she feels the same way.” “She does?” Yelena nods. “Next week Natasha.” she trails off, walking out of her office.

Natasha sighs, running her fingers through her red hair. How do I tell her?

The next few days have been bad, you couldn't figure out why, you've been having the worst headaches lately. But you still went to work, obviously.

You were at your desk when Yelena came in your office, “Hey sestra what's up?” you look up at her, “Hey 'Lena, nothing much. You?” you croak out, your throat scratchy. “You okay Y/n?” you nod, weakly smiling at her.

“Well.. anything happening at work lately?” you huff, dropping your pen on the desk. “Other than Natasha bugging me.. I mean– she tells me it was a mistake but doesn't stop bothering me.” Yelena looks at you, “Do you think it was a mistake?” you hesitate, “No, but I'm respecting her opinion.”

“What if she changed her opinio—” Natasha walks in the room, Yelena stops. “Was I interrupting?” you shake your head, “No it's fine.” she looks at you the same way Yelena did, “Are you okay?” you lock eyes with her for a split second, “Yeah! Yeah.. I'm fine.”

She sighs, “You can take off for the day.” you look up at her, “Really?” “Yeah.” you thank her, picking up your paperwork. “Leave that, I'll tell someone else to do it.” you blink, “Thank you! Bye, I'll see you tomorrow Miss Romanoff, bye 'Lena!” you wave goodbye, leaving your office.

You feel the need to throw up as soon as you get home, you rush into your bathroom, and vomit. You get out, and drink water, throat still scratchy. What the fuck? ...

Days go by, you keep calling out sick. Natasha starts to worry, debating whether or not she should check up on you.

Eventually, she drives to your apartment. Knocking on your door. You open it, widening your eyes when you see her in front of your door. “Miss Romanoff!” you open the door further, signaling her to come in.

“What– what are you doing here?” you ask, closing your door. “You haven't gone to work in 8 days, I'm worried Y/n.” you sit down across from her. “What's wrong? Is it me?” you stop her, “No! I mean‐ it is you but it isn't you.” she furrows her brows in confusion.

“Miss Romanoff I—” she cuts you off, “I'm in love with you.” you widen your eyes in shock, “Well that makes this 10 times easier.” you laugh nervously, “Makes what easier?” you fiddle with your fingers, looking down at your lap. “Natasha I'm.. pregnant.”

She looks over at you, “You– it's mine?” you nod your head. She moves closer to you, grasping your hand. “Are you keeping them?” you nod, “Yeah.” she brings a hand up to your cheek, “Can I—” you slam your lips with hers, kissing her deeply.

You break the kiss, gasping for air. “Natasha what would everyone think?” she squeezes your hand, “Don't worry detka, I have it under control.” you smile at her, “Okay..” you two sit in silence before you speak up, “Are you staying?” “If you want.” you kiss her cheek, “Of course I want you to stay.”

She smiles at you, “Then I'm staying.”

The next week you back to work, when you enter your work building, you hear series of, “Congratulations Mrs. Romanoff.” not knowing what they meant by that, you go to Natasha's office.

“Y/n,” you set her cup of coffee on her desk. “What do they mean, "Mrs. Romanoff"?” she sighs, passing you a magazine. “Read it.” you grab it from her, reading it.

'Natasha Romanoff and wife expecting a baby' you put it back on her desk, “So.. I'm Mrs. Romanoff?” she nods, looking at you. You smile, taking a seat on her lap. “Baby I'm working..” you kiss her softly, “I could get used to 'Mrs. Romanoff'.”

She smiles, kissing you back. You hear a knock on the door, Natasha groans. “Come in.” Yelena barges into her office, “So my sister and bestfriend are having a baby and just happen to not tell me?”

Yelena looks at the both of your positions, widening her eyes. “Pretend I never came in here. Congratulations by the way sestra. I'm gonna go.” She runs out of Natasha's office, closing the door shut.

#SoundCloud #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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happy74827 · 10 months

Text

The Little Things

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is a little bit of love to turn things around.

WC: 2756

Category: Heavy Angst, Happy Ending

I’m actually very proud at how this turned out.

『••✎••』

Gideon had always been a character that you were fascinated by. He was mysterious, powerful, and, of course, had an ego to match. Despite how he seemed to others, you always saw something else behind that sly smile of his. You always felt like there was something about him that you were missing. Something that drew you to him like a magnet.

Oddly enough, the two of you had met through Ramona, and though you were intrigued, you also hated him. The moment you two met, you couldn't get away from him quick enough. The guy just rubbed you the wrong way.

However, you couldn't deny that he had a charm to him. As much as you hated it, you found yourself staring at him sometimes. You couldn't help it when he was around. His aura always made you feel nervous.

Julia had told you that you were living a true "life of the cliche,” and as much as you wanted to tell her that she was full of shit, there was some truth to what she said.

There was something about the man that always made you look twice. You didn't understand what it was, but he made you feel some type of way. It didn’t help when he would seek you out, going as far as to con his way into being with you.

He knew how to push your buttons. So, you knew it would only be a certain amount of time before he found a way in. And thus, that enemies-to-lovers story was written.

The two of you had started off rocky, of course. You always fought, mostly about little things and the occasional heavy blowout. It didn't help that you and Gideon had very different personalities or the fact that he was the most narcissistic person you knew.

But right when you started to smooth out those cracks, it all changed come after the events with Ramona and his league of assholes. He became more work-driven. Less of the Gideon you were used to. You were kind of proud of him for that, but at the same time, you hated that he changed so drastically.

The Gideon you knew was full of snarky remarks, a subtle asshole with a sense of humor, and of course, the constant flirting. You liked to think that that was the Gideon you liked and knew.

The man in front of you now didn't give a shit about anything that wasn't work. He worked until he passed out and only stopped when someone dragged him away from his desk. He even slept there sometimes.

You didn't like how he had become. It hurt you. He wasn't the man you knew anymore. The man you knew was gone, and it made your chest ache.

"Hey," you say softly, coming up behind him and setting a cup of coffee on his desk. He turns his head, his gaze falling on you. You watch as his brows furrow before he looks at the cup of coffee.

"What's this?" He asks, raising a brow.

"It's just a cup of coffee." You reply, sitting across from him at his desk and pulling a sketchbook out of your bag.

"A cup of coffee?" He repeats, picking it up and taking a sip. His brows furrow as he continues to stare at it. He grimaces.

"Too hot, but yeah, coffee. It's the liquid gold of the earth." You smile.

"Liquid gold?" He asks, taking another sip and wincing. "I don't see it."

You shrug, flipping to a blank page in your sketchbook. The old him would’ve said something witty back. He would've made a joke at the expense of your taste in coffee. He’d probably be looking you up and down and saying something about how he knew what he liked in his coffee.

Instead, he was silent, his attention going back to his screen. You look at him for a moment, his fingers flying across his keyboard.

"Do you even sleep?" You ask him, and you swear that you hear him sigh.

"Not when I can help it." He replies, not bothering to look at you.

"Gideon-"

"You shouldn't be here." He cuts you off. You purse your lips together, sighing. When he looked at you for a split second, just a fraction of a second, you could tell that there was something wrong. He had deep bags under his eyes, and it was obvious that he was exhausted. He looked pale like he was sick. You don't think he's slept for the past few days.

"Why don't we go home?" You ask him. "We can work tomorrow."

"No," he says, not even bothering to look up at you.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," you tell him, standing up and setting your hand on his shoulder. He flinches. "You can't keep pushing yourself to the point of collapse."

"I'm fine," he replies.

"You aren't." You insist. You glance around his office, seeing papers scattered everywhere. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was overworked.

"I am, and I can't keep this up." He replies.

"Keep what up?" You ask, and when you glance at him, he looks tired. You can see the dark circles under his eyes and his brow furrow as he types away.

"I can't keep you up." He says after a moment, not looking at you. You blink a few times, furrowing your brow.

"What do you mean?" You might ask, but you're already pretty sure what he's referring to. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, stopping it midway, and shaking his head. He slouches in his seat.

"I mean that this is all pointless, isn't it? Why try when the world is ending? Why try when I'll just die alone? When there is no one who cares about me and no one who gives a shit about me." He says, his words bitter, laced with exhaustion. You can see his expression fall. His hands go back to the keyboard, and you furrow your brow as you watch him.

"Gideon..."

"I don't want you to care about me," he snaps. "Why would you want to?"

"I want to because I do care," you tell him. You sigh softly. "Unlike Ramona, I don't see you like that."

"Do not mention her to me. Don't." His tone changes drastically. You watch as he shakes his head. "Don't talk to me."

"Gideon, what's wrong?" You ask, kneeling down beside his desk. You reach out to him, but he smacks your hand away, a look of fury on his face. He glares at you, but you can tell there's something behind his glare. You can see how broken he looks. How much he needs someone right now.

"You're useless," he says bitterly, and it hurts you more than it should. You open your mouth to respond, but he stops you, not wanting to hear it. "Don't say anything."

"I don't want to leave you like this." You tell him, and you can see the way his expression falls.

"I don't care what you want," he tells you, but you can see the way his lips part and the way he looks at you. You watch as he averts his gaze from you. He stares at his screen, his brow furrowed. "Go home."

"Gideon-"

"Please," he says, and the desperation is in his voice. "Just... go."

You watch him for a moment, the pencil in your hands still. You let out a heavy breath, looking down. He wasn’t going to budge; you knew that now. He was set in his ways, and he wasn't going to let you in. You know him well enough to know when he's set in stone.

You sigh, setting your sketchbook and pencil back into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. You shake your head at him, your gaze soft. "You know where I'll be if you change your mind."

He doesn't reply to you. You press your lips together as you turn on your heel, walking away. You know that he isn't going to find you. He's going to sit there all alone and work himself to death.

You know that no matter how you try, he's going to find a way to push you away. You know that he's going to do what he wants, and he's going to be stubborn.

So you decide to give him his space. You decide to go home and leave him alone. You don't know what you were thinking, coming into his office with coffee. He would never say it but you were hoping you could help.

Maybe if he let his walls down, he would feel better about himself. You know it was too much to ask, but it's what you wanted.

You decide to let him work. You'll just be here, waiting for him to come to you. It's all you can do. It's all you can do to show that you care for him.

That's all you can do, right?

A couple of hours pass by, and you're sitting in your bed, a mug of tea in your hands. Your sketchbook is open in front of you, and you sigh, pressing your fingers to your temple.

You really need to draw something to get out of your headspace, but it doesn't help. It's been an hour, and there are still no new pages of art. The most recent drawing is still the one you drew of Gideon.

He was in his usual attire with his katana against his shoulder. His eyes were glued to the ground in it, a small smile on his lips.

You drew it back when he was still… him. The old him. You were scared to give it to him at the fear of him laughing in your face. Now, you were afraid that he wouldn’t even care.

You sigh softly. You know you have to face the reality that the man you've always liked won't be the man he was again. Not for a while, anyway.

"What am I going to do with you, Gideon?" You murmur, your voice thick with sadness. The tea you were drinking didn't taste as good as you hoped it would. It tasted bitter to you now, and it didn't sit right with you.

You let out a soft sigh and lean back against the headboard of your bed, closing your eyes. You lay there in silence, waiting for the morning to come.

It wouldn't come.

Not with Gideon still overworking himself at his desk. At least, not until he noticed a small piece of paper beside his keyboard. It turns out that when you opened your sketchbook, an old drawing came tumbling out without your knowledge.

It was a super old one, probably one of the first you did of him. You weren’t even talking at that point, just staring from afar as you tried to figure out why you were so attracted to this guy.

You still don't understand, honestly.

But as Gideon stared at the drawing, the insane amount of stress that was on his shoulders seemed to lift for a moment. He glanced towards the door before going back to the drawing, staring at it.

The amount of detail that you put in the drawing shocked him. He almost felt as though he was looking in a mirror—a mirror of his old self.

You got everything right. His hair length, the outfit, the color of his eyes, even the tiny scratches on the lens of his glasses. It was almost eerie how much you got right.

It's the little things you notice about people. The little things you remember.

He remembered that you said that.

You had been in a rather philosophical mood that day. He remembered it because it stuck with him. He'd forgotten that.

"Damn it.” He murmured, folding up the drawing as he glanced at the door. He stared at it for a moment before gently setting the drawing in his pocket. "Why am I like this?"

He knew that you were probably asleep by now, maybe curled up with a cup of tea, but he sighed, reaching over for the telephone.

He was right; of course, you were asleep. But you weren't asleep long.

"You always did have an eye for detail."

He spoke to himself, but you heard enough to know it was him. You didn't move from your place, however. You stayed still as a statue, your eyes closed.

"Gideon?” Your voice was a soft, almost fragile whisper. It was soft, yet it felt like it echoed throughout the entire room. He smiled, but you couldn't see that.

He fell silent for a long time. It seemed like forever, but you knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to hear your voice.

He was desperate for it.

“Yeah,” he replied, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. “Yeah, it’s me.”

There was a slight pause. You didn't reply for a long time. You lay there in the dark, the quiet and the sound of static being the only thing you heard.

But when you spoke, you sounded the same way he did, almost a bit fragile and broken, your tone thick with sadness.

"Why are you different? Why?" You ask, your voice wavering and cracking. You sit up, setting your sketchbook to the side, your fingers gripping your comforter as you wait for him to reply.

He did, and after a moment, his voice was quiet, soft. "I— I don’t know. I really don't."

There was a moment when you couldn't breathe. He sounded so broken and so desperate to be around someone. You wanted to drive back where he was. You wanted to give him the hug you knew he wanted.

"Come home." You say softly.

There was a moment of silence, not an uncomfortable silence, but more of a thoughtfulness. You weren't sure what he was thinking or if he would respond. You were about to pull the phone away from your ear, but you heard his voice again.

"Okay."

It was such a simple answer, but it meant so much to you. It made your heart skip a beat. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. It was like you were in shock, frozen solid as you sat in bed.

"For what it’s worth,” he said softly. You can almost picture him looking up at the ceiling with that look in his eye. The one you always saw when he thought about the past. The one where he was vulnerable. Where he didn't feel like the strongest man on earth.

Where he didn't have a mask on.

“I didn’t mean it when I said you were useless. You're not… useless. You're the only one who cares enough to try, and I didn't realize how much that mattered to me."

“Gid-"

"I don’t… say this often, but when I’m wrong, I'm wrong." He says, and you feel your chest ache. He pauses. "So, uh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," you murmured.

"You deserve better than what I've given you." He tells you, his voice soft.

"Yeah, I do, but I also want you." You confess. "I just want the you I knew before all this bullshit. Even if you were a bit of a dick.”

He laughed softly at your response. "Oh, trust me, I'm still plenty of that."

You laughed softly. You felt yourself relax slightly. He was starting to come back to you, slowly but surely. You smiled softly as you settled back in your bed.

"Forgiven?” He asked after a moment.

"Forgiven." You confirm, and you hear him sigh softly. He's relieved.

You can picture the grin on his face. The one that he wore when he thought he had you wrapped around his finger. It's a nice grin. It makes your heart flutter.

"Hurry up and get back to me." You tell him. "I wanna sleep. You woke me up."

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll see you soon, love." He replied, the nickname making your cheeks flush. He always seemed to know exactly what to say, but now you feel like he's letting his walls down.

"I love you too," you say, and you swear that you hear him sigh softly like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He hung up, but now you didn’t mind because he was coming back to you. The old him was coming back to you.

And you couldn’t wait for it.

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kineticpenguin · 6 months

Text

So I finished the Fallout series

And that was a mistake.

You know how like, 2 episodes in I said "the only character anyone involved in this show seems to actually give a shit about is the Walton Goggins ghoul"? Yeah, that stays consistent for the whole duration. You know how people use "NPC" as an insult? Lucy is worse: she's a BethSoft Fallout PC. She just steps on out of that vault with generic do-gooder personality, and basically everything brought to that character is entirely from the person playing her, certainly not the goddamn writers. Let me be absolutely clear: this is not Ella Purnell's fault, she is acting her ass off. It's just the writers gave her such trash to work with and the only button they have on their keyboard is "well that just happened!"

It's almost as bad for Maximus the Hapless Brotherhood Dipshit (Aaron Moten) but not quite. The writers thought maybe they'd do a fakeout to make you question whether or not he's a good guy or not, and absolutely did not commit. Another character where the actor had to do their best with nothing.

So obviously Lucy and Maximus fall in love and... here's the thing. She's smitten from the moment he first shows up in power armor, calls him a "knight," even though she's supposedly up to speed on prewar history and knows T-60 armor when she sees it. Why she just got obsessed with this idea that this guy is a Knight and not a remnant of the US Army remains to be seen, but I'm pretty sure it's because Todd Howard hears "knight in shining armor" and gets a big fat chub and dreams of being carried off into the sunset.

I can't even say Walton Goggins steals the show as the ghoul Cooper Howard, because most of this show is actually really all about him. He is the actual protagonist.

Overall assessment, though? God, where is the copypasta about Fallout 3... ah, yes. It makes about that much sense. They retconned the NCR into a fragment and then finished it off out of what I can only assume is 14 years of pure spite from Todd Howard. Why? Because they want you to know that it seems that Vault-Tec is bad. Uh, very bad.

Vault-Tec's bad, huh?

HEY FRANK THIS GUY'S OVER HERE WATCHIN' AN AMAZON SHOW OVER HERE THAT SAYS THAT VAULT-TEC... IS BAD!

It's a show with nothing for everyone. It holds its cards close to the chest so non-fans won't understand what's going on, and shits all over existing canon which fans won't like.

And also it just sucks. The plot doesn't make any sense and the fight choreography occasionally achieves "acceptable" at best. Battlefields populate and depopulate and repopulate without explanation. There is no flow to the combat. There is a moment in the finale where banner-bearers with the BoS flag and the NCR flag just rush at each other. BECAUSE TROOPS ATTACKING BY HELICOPTER AND PEOPLE DEFENDING THEMSELVES FROM THEM, BOTH SIDES USING MACHINE GUNS, ARE SO WORRIED ABOUT BATTLE STANDARDS LIKE IT'S 1844

Fuck this show.

#fallout #amazon fallout

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azulock · 11 months

Text

I almost lost this thing due to a keyboard mishap, saved by the dedicated ctrlz button on my wacom, thanking my tablet for this save. anyway I'm pretty sure someone has done this concept already but two cakes rule apply, more is better.

summary. Reo shouldn't be fucking Nagi's girlfriend to begin with, he knew, but when his best friend was such a garbage boyfriend he couldn't help but fill in the void. now, cumming inside the girl unprotected, that was dangerous - and hot. pairing. Mikage Reo x F!reader

wordcount. 1,3k

warnings.nsfw (minors back off), cheating, unprotected sex, cumshot, a bit of breeding kink at the end

right?

Reo Mikage who indulges in how it feels to have you cheating on Nagi with him. it's a sick pleasure, something sadistic about being the one you turn to relive your frustration from dating his aloof best friend. truth be told, Nagi could be an annoyance even for him - so for Reo it could feel like getting back something he was owed.

and he definitely felt like he was owed, what with how many times he'd had to step in as mediator to save Nagi from his own fuckups in your relationship. Reo for sure deserved every second he'd spend in your folds not too long afterward. if he was putting so much work to salvage this whole thing, might as well reap the benefits.

it always started with you coming to complain to him about something. way back in the beginning, Reo would just listen and console you, all the while thinking how did such a pretty thing get stuck in a situation like this. sometimes he thought you'd just be better alone, that you should leave Nagi, but you just never managed to. and who was him to judge, he'd thought the same thing about himself and never found the strength to get rid of the guy either.

so if you are stuck, might as well be stuck together.

overtime, his hidden lust for you grew - he was just a guy after all, and you were hot. it filled him until, one day, it exploded. you were half drunk, just tipsy enough to get talkative, more so than usual, and you let it slip how frustrated you were. Nagi hadn't been pleasuring you properly, and that left you terribly pent up. well, Reo just couldn't stand for that.

on the morning after that first night, when he woke up by your side, that's when the sick pleasure took root. when you woke up - regret and worry painted on your face - Reo said he'd take full responsibility if Nagi ever discovered. but you both could just stay quiet, keep this one time fuckup a secret. you nodded, swore that this as a mistake, it would never happen again.

it took barely over a month for you two to have sex again. it was the same song and dance it would be for the next handful of times. honestly, he thought that after the fourth time even Nagi would notice, but he didn't. so Reo continued, and told himself he was still just consoling you, only his methods had changed. if he couldn't fix the problem - and god knows he tried - he could at least medicate the symptom.

maybe Reo couldn't take your headaches away, but he could at least soothe them by flushing your body with pleasure. soothe them by burying his face into you until the only name you knew was his own. by sheathing himself into your walls until there was nothing left but the pleasure. and it worked for him too, pleasure washing everything away until all he could focus on was the feeling of your body around his.

it was sinful, really, this mix of the pleasure from your wet walls taking him in so eagerly, with knowing he was doing something so wrong. the thrill was a powerful aphrodisiac, this little taste of revenge chasing his senses like a drug. to have you completely breathless and dumb under him - in ways he knew his Nagi didn't - it left Reo high and thirsty for more. even if he had spent most of the night fucking you already.

you'd arrived at his doorstep tired and teared up, but it didn't take long for you to be crying for a whole other reason. he couldn't leave bruises on your body - you had to keep it a secret, after all - but he could leave you stretched out and light headed. your body fucked out and brain fuzzy from the multiple orgasms. Reo was feeling his own mind slip, he'd fucked you three times already since the night began - hell, it was probably past midnight by now. maybe he should've stopped now that the condoms ended.

"a-ah... R-Reo!" ah, but how could he when you moaned his name so prettily. it made him want you even more, and he didn't think he could stop his hips if he wanted to. not with the way your walls sucked in him, warm body crushed against the mattress under his weight. oh, yeah, Reo couldn't stop if he wanted to. besides, the thrill just made it feel better - and it would be fine. right?

he nips and licks at your neck, where his head is buried. Reo could see the wet spots near your face from where you had been drooling. god, you were so hot when your brain shut down. the more he fucked into you the more he could feel you shake and whimper under him until he finally feels you snap, pussy milking him desperately.

shit, he was already sensitive, hyper aware of everything around him - the sweat pooling between your bodies, the warmth from your skin, the tiniest noises coming from you. your orgasm had him in overdrive, the way your pussy clenched around his cock making him shudder and grunt. Reo could feel his own orgasm coming, his thrusts becoming erratic as he moved faster and faster.

he is chasing something he knows he shouldn't, treading the line to something that could be very bad - but the thrill, oh it drove him mad. it would be fine, it would be fine. so long as Reo kept his damn self control and came out of your soft, drenching pussy, it would be fine. he could endure a few more thrusts before pulling out and it would work out fine - right?

his body moved faster and faster, sinking his hips into you with wave like motions, pleasure burning up his insides. it was too good, way too good, pulling him ever closer to the edge. just a couple thrusts and he'd pull out - that's what he promised himself, but when you breathlessly moaned out his name again, he couldn't help it. fuck, this was wrong, Reo knew, but it felt so damn good.

with a last powerful thrust, he buries his cock deep into your soft cunt, keeping his hips snug against your ass, going as far into you as he could. Reo's orgasm rocked his body and made him see stars as his throbbing dick flooded your pussy with his cum, pumping rope after rope of his thick white jizz into you until he felt some of it spilling out.

shit. shit, shit, shit. now, this wasn't good. cumming inside his best friend's girlfriend wasn't in Reo's plans, but the worst part was:, he couldn't say it felt bad. because it didn't. it felt too damn good. despite how wrong it was, despite the dangers, it felt way too good. that small, sadistic glee only burning more intensely.

you were still too fucked out and hazy to realize just what had happened. or at least the full extent of it. you two had never fucked without a condom and Reo knew you definitely wouldn't let him cum inside you. the danger was too great, what if he got you pregnant? now that wouldn't be good.

so, why did a part of him like the idea? why did a part of him want to go again, to try and roll the dice, to put a baby inside his best friend's girlfriend - when Reo knew damn well he'd be over at your house tomorrow to try and mend your relationship again. shit, this wasn't good. but you two would deal with it in the morning. and even if you got pregnant, he was sure he could find a way to make this work. right?

#reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage #Gonna make a comment only Brazilians and literature nerds will get:#Dom casmurro if you believe that capitu actually cheated

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 7 months

Text

Unpredictable, Part 10-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: It's been a long time coming but it's here. The next part will be the finale. Thank you all so much for your support. I love reading all your replies and messages :)

Content warnings: Swearing and some violence

Word count: 6.5k

Series Masterlist

Many experts are concerned with the pervasiveness of serial killers in a supe society. Some people propose intense ideas, like using AI or supes with predictive abilities to kill potential serial killers beforehand. Others…

I paused my fingertips over the keyboard and sighed. “It’s okay, just breathe and think of the words. Dr. Melrose is one of the nicer professors, anyway.”

Then, my fingertips started moving again.

Others think this is too extreme and argue that serial killers have a right to live as much as anyone else. Which is the dumbest idea on planet earth.

Nope, can’t submit that.

I punched my thumb on the backspace button and stared at my two semi-decent sentences. Then, I glanced down at the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen and sighed.

The essay had a minimum fifteen-page requirement and it took me an hour to come up with two sentences.

I groaned and leaned back against the swivel chair and stared up at the stark white ceiling. Last year’s campus library renovation included an impressive update of the study rooms, including making them sound-proof, power-proof, and equipped with the most state-of-the-art technology.

My textbooks and notebooks were sprawled around the table, each with color-coded highlights and meticulous notes that did nothing but make my head spin. Usually, I spent most of my writing time trimming down my page length, especially when it came to ethical issues around crimefighting. But my brain couldn’t focus despite the distraction-free environment.

No matter what I did, I kept picturing the looks on Jordan and Marie’s faces when I told them I couldn’t go to the town hall. They both looked like I had taken away a large chunk of their hope.

But I couldn’t have been that helpful anyway, I thought harshly.

Sure, I helped them gather information and connected some dots but anyone could have done that.

I clapped. “Y/N, you have to stop thinking about them and the town hall. You need to finish this paper.”

Just when I grazed my keyboard, the study room door swung open. I jumped and turned to ask the person to leave, but stopped when I saw Coco standing in the doorway. In her cropped black Tommy Hilfiger blazer and matching cigarette pants, she looked like a debate moderator. Her hair fell in perfect curls and her eyes slightly narrowed at me.

“Hey, you could have knocked,” I said as light-heartedly as I could.

Coco let the door close softly behind her before sauntering over to me. “My bad, I was in a hurry. I thought I’d find you here since you weren’t at the house.”

Coco’s tone was much shorter than usual and she kept her gaze on me. My stomach churned and I straightened up.

“Coco, it was a directive from Sydney, not me,” I explained.

Coco sighed. “I don’t know why I thought I could surprise you when you know everything.”

“Not everything.”

“Anyway, what the hell is that directive about? How does she want to ‘pursue our ambitions’ but not voice our opinions?” Coco scoffed. “I knew her whole I-care-about-all-women schtick was bullshit.”

“Did you talk to her about it?” The look Coco gave me made me shrink back into my chair.

“Why do you let her walk all over you? She made you do her dirty work.”

“As a secretary, I do have to send out communications about a variety of things; it’s part of my role. Besides, it wasn’t my decision.”

“Don’t hide behind your role, Y/N. You’ll do anything to stay good with them, even if it means missing out on a historical moment.”

I hesitated. This would not be the last time that two polar opposite politicians would face off on core issues, but it would be the first time that the main issue was supes.

“I get that you care about this since it’s your major and everything but, I have to set a good example for the other girls and the initiates.”

Coco rolled her eyes. “Do you know what the other girls and initiates are doing? They’re arguing with Sydney right now and some are trying to figure out if a shapeshifter can somehow change their appearances. Everyone wants to be a part of it; Sydney’s just scared of fallout and I know that you know that.”

While I did have many ideas about why Sydney made the decision she did, it didn’t matter. I tried to push back but it failed and I had to deal with the consequences.

“I know she’s trying to protect Si Chi’s legacy and reputation and even if I don’t agree with it, I don’t have a choice.”

“Damn it, Y/N, you always have a choice! You always choose to follow the rules but guess what? Rule followers get forgotten in history; it’s the people who stir up shit that gets remembered.”

I glanced at my laptop. “Not always.”

“Well, most of the time but that’s not the point.” Coco pulled the chair from the other side of the table around and sat next to me. “You could do some real shit in the real world if you weren’t so caught up in your own head.”

Her words made me pause. This wasn’t the first time that Coco tried to push me to “think bigger” and it was usually flattering. This time, I felt myself get more and more nauseous.

I sipped some water. “I don’t think you always have to rebel to create change.”

“There’s a time for everything.” Coco leaned back in her chair and glanced at her phone. “I have to start walking to the union before everything gets too crazy. I hope you’ll have my back at the house.”

She didn’t wait for a reply and slipped out of the room almost as quietly as she entered. Immediately, I slumped in my chair and pouted.

Not everyone could be like Coco and take risks like that. In her situation, rankings didn’t matter, she just had to graduate and network like crazy. It was different for me and anyone else who was trying to at least get a city contract; rebellion did not look good on a resume.

Coco isn’t the only one risking their reputation, my brain reminded me.

I groaned and rubbed my hands over my face. Even though Jordan was always hellbent on climbing to number one, they wanted to expose everything happening at GOD U. According to Cate, Jordan had a whole meltdown when Andre and Marie’s rankings forced them to number five. Despite all that, they wanted to do the right thing.

And then there was Marie. She’d unexpectedly received everything any GOD U student could want on a silver platter: a high ranking, backing from Vought, and promotions on social and regular media. But she never wavered when it came to the Woods.

And it’s not like I didn’t want to go to the town hall, I couldn’t. There would be cameras everywhere and the news would get back to Sydney faster than A-Train. Her icy glare sent a chill down my spine at the thought.

I shook my head.

I can’t focus on any of that, I had to focus on this essay.

Finally, I started writing:

Other people suggest that such practices are much too inhumane and that serial killers must experience early interventions as soon as possible. However, in such a situation, it is near-impossible to determine the best practices much less who would deliver them.

I smiled to myself as I kept writing and breathed a sigh of relief once I finished my thesis statement.

“Great, now all I have to do is----”

“Y/N, what the hell!” Emma demanded.

I jumped and turned to the study room door. Emma’s face was beet-red and she had detergent stains all over her sweatpants. The door slammed behind her as she stormed over to me.

“What?” I asked.

Emma shook her head. “You know what. I just got off a video call with Marie; what the hell happened?”

My stomach dropped and I almost let my head plant on the desk.

At this point, it was like the two of them were haunting me. After a couple of deep breaths, I explained Sydney’s order and how I had to break the news to Marie and Jordan. As I spoke, Emma’s expression became more solemn.

“Why would you do that? Things were going so well,” Emma mused.

“I have to keep my position in Si Chi, Emma, and I can’t do anything that messes with it.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

I hesitated, wondering if it was a little bit of both. Emma plopped down in the chair and dropped her bag on the ground.

“I know that you’re a good-two-shoes but you’re not that way all the time. I mean, you do regularly sneak off campus with the others,” Emma pointed out.

“Not so loud. You never know who could be listening,” I insisted.

“Anyway, I get that your parents really screwed you up but, when do you get to live your life?”

The last part sounded like something a really good therapist would say. Even if those words did come from a therapist, I still wouldn’t know how to answer. Every move I made since middle school was to get me to be a successful (married/engaged) supe and that was always enough for me. Mom and Dad both seemed please with each stride I made towards that goal, but it was always limited and I never stopped to think about what I wanted.

All I knew was that I was dying to know why Shetty wanted Cate and me to be friends, how long the Woods existed, and why she created the virus. I also knew that the thought of Jordan or Marie getting hurt because of all this made my chest ache.

I fidgeted with my hands. “I am living my life.”

“Are you? Do you really want to be in the library while everyone’s at the town hall? Do you really want to give up on looking into all of this?”

I snapped my eyes up at Emma. “Of course, I want to go but I also have to play it smart. Why can’t anyone understand that?” I sighed. “I just got here, Emma, and I don’t want to lose it, I can’t lose it.”

Emma frowned. “You didn’t try to look into the future about this.”

She was confident and her gaze never left mine. I wanted to push back but, there was no point. Out of everyone, Emma knew me best and there was no point in hiding. So, I explained everything about my power loss to her. The words felt like I was digging my nails into an open wound and I could feel my throat constricting towards the end.

“Shit,” she muttered.

I nodded. “I really can’t do anything out of line now; I have no leverage for Si Chi and if they found out my powers are gone, they’d kick me out immediately. Plus, I’ll get expelled, and then what? Work for my mom or dad?”

“I’m really sorry about your powers, Y/N, but you don’t know that they’re gone for good. Plus, there are plenty of other ways you can be successful here and once you graduate. You could write a tell-all book, work in research, or model like I’ve been telling you to do forever!”

I snorted at her words, which made Emma burst out laughing. I don’t know how long we laughed for, but it felt good. However, when it stopped, a realization dawned on me.

“I don’t know, Emma, things don’t tend to work out for me if I don’t follow a plan,” I expressed.

Emma wiped some tears from her eyes. “Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe my powers going away because Cate’s brainwashed or getting caught up in a conspiracy that could get us all killed or maybe having your new boyfriend attack me.”

Emma flushed. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

I rolled my eyes. “But that all happened because I was going off the plan. I was supposed to focus and crack the Top Fifteen this year.”

“But Jordan and Marie weren’t in your plan, and they were pretty good.”

I sighed and rested my head on the desk. At first, I thought our conversation was going so well but then Emma had to bring them up.

“And it’s over before anything really even started.” I propped my chin up on my hands. “But that’s probably a good thing since I need to stay on track. I’ve only gone up to Sixteen.”

Emma pursed her lips and straightened up. Wordlessly, she stood and slowly made her way to the other side of the table. She paced back and forth for a second before slamming her hands down on the desk.

“No, you don’t get to talk like that. In our fifteen years of friendship, I have never seen you look at or act the way you do with Marie and Jordan. You look so happy, and you deserve to be happy, I don’t care what anyone else says and you need to start believing that.”

For a second, I thought my vision blurred but it was the tears welling up in my eyes. I willed them to stay away for a second.

“But what about Si Chi?” I wondered.

Emma groaned. “If they’re going to kick you out because you went to the town hall to be with your girlfriend and partner, then they’re idiots.” Emma stood. “But you have to decide which is more important.”

The issue was that the thought of losing either of them made me nearly hyperventilate. Si Chi was a beacon of social acceptance, but Marie and Jordan made me feel accepted. No matter how uncomfortable I felt sobbing in front of them or not wanting either of them to see me in bad lighting or makeup-less, they made me comfortable.

“They don’t want me back. They’re both…unstoppable and I’ve proven to be the exact opposite.”

“Come on, Y/N, stop with the self-doubt. I can promise you, Marie and Jordan want to be with you too, they just don’t know how to reach out.” She smirked. “You should have heard Jordan ranting about how they’d knock Sydney out of her power trip; Marie had to cut the call short to calm them down.”

I laughed a little at that. “Jordan always said that Sydney was the most mediocre telekinetic on campus.”

“But the point is they both still care a lot about you. They’re obviously hurt but you’re not totally unforgivable.”

“Thanks, Emma.”

“And if they did break up with, you always have me whenever I’m not with Sam.”

“Gee, thanks. Where is he, anyway?” “Locked away in my dorm. Could you imagine him out there in the craziness?”

“Yes.”

Emma opened her mouth to argue but got cut off by her phone alarm going off. “I have to go switch out the laundry. I hope one cycle is enough to get blood out.”

When she left, I mulled over everything we talked about. Were she and Coco on the same wavelength or something? In both conversations, I could have started screaming at either of them but buried deep down, I knew that they both had good points.

Brink was always saying how we have to take calculated risks as heroes and it was important to minimize the damage. Even though he wasn’t my favorite professor, he did have some good points.

Maybe there was a way to minimize the damage with Si Chi and my relationship.

The thought made my hands shake as I packed up my things.

Fifteen minutes later, I was desperately trying to stop my shoulders from hiking up any further to my ears as I walked to the union. The protestors’ shouts all across the green were deafening and did nothing for my pounding head and heart. Throughout the crowd, several people were filming for social media and I did my best to avoid them.

After a few minutes, I spotted Jordan and Marie standing a couple of yards away from a side entrance that was guarded by two burly men. My heart skipped a beat as I watched their focused eyes on each other as they spoke.

Here goes nothing.

I slowly sauntered up to them, my mind racing with something, anything decent to say.

“…well, we have to figure out a way in,” Jordan muttered.

“Hi,” I chirped.

When they both faced me, I had to force myself not to try to run. Marie’s eyebrows raised and Jordan slightly narrowed her eyes at me.

“What are you doing here?” Jordan asked.

I swallowed. “I’ve had a couple of pretty intense conversations that helped me realize that you were both right: the Woods is bigger than GOD U and I should help expose it. I’m sorry about earlier, I was scared and I still am but, I want to help in any way that I can.”

The next couple of seconds felt like a million years. Finally, Marie smiled and relaxed.

“Does this mean that you don’t care about Si Chi anymore?” she asked.

“No, I’m petrified of all the cameras but I’m trying really hard not to think about it,” I admitted.

“Well, it’s a good first step. We’d love your help,” Marie declared.

Jordan paused before sighing. “Just don’t run off again.”

I agreed. “So, you’re looking for a way in?”

Marie nodded. “But we can’t get past those two without causing a scene.”

If I had my powers, solving that would have been easy but I was on my own. I glanced at the two burly guards and cocked my head.

“Did you try flirting?” I asked.

“No, and don’t even think about it,” Jordan threatened.

I turned to her. “You’re jealous about a suggestion?”

Jordan shrugged and Marie chuckled.

“Fine, that’s off the table.”

“Do you know a teleporter?” Marie asked.

“Well, there’s Gia Sharpe from Beta Ro but she’s probably inside already,” I offered.

Jordan started rolling her eyes but paused and grinned when she saw something. “That might not be necessary.”

Marie and I followed her gaze and I gasped when it landed on Justine and Renee. The two were standing on a nearby green and Justine was trying to direct Renee to hold the camera to really capture her dismayed expression. I slid behind Marie and put my head down.

“What’s wrong?” Marie asked.

I huffed. “It’s Justine.”

“Do you two have issues besides what she did to Emma?” Jordan asked.

“Sort of. She and her friend tried to rush Si Chi and after everything with Emma, I couldn’t let that happen,” I explained.

“And?” Marie prompted.

“And, I explained my concerns to the other sorority presidents, including Sydney and none of them wanted to promote her behavior.”

Marie smirked and Jordan’s grin deepened.

“You blackballed that bitch from every sorority?” Jordan teased.

“No, I just gave the other presidents information I thought they could use,” I defended.

“That’s pretty badass, Y/N,” Marie stated.

I smiled as my stomach flipped. “Anyway, I know that she doesn’t know that I did it but I have a feeling that she would take any opportunity to make me look bad.”

Jordan glanced at me for a second before turning her gaze back on Justine. Jordan’s jaw clenched and there was a new glint in their eyes that only appeared right before a fight. As she started approaching them, I moved to stand next to Marie.

“What are you doing?” Marie whispered.

“Causing a distraction,” Jordan called over her shoulder.

I gulped and stared as Jordan called Justine before delivering a right hook to her jaw. Justine stumbled for a second before straightening up, her jaw askew. She snapped it back into place with a flick of her hand and hissed something back at Jordan. Seconds later, Jordan was beaming in the middle of a full-on brawl.

“Does Jordan always get like this when they fight?” Marie asked.

“Yes. One time, they almost got us kicked out of a club because they sent a group of guys to the hospital.”

“Almost?”

“Cate.”

“Oh.”

I smiled as Jordan dodged one frat boy’s sloppy left side kick only to spin him to collide with another frat boy that was approaching her from behind. “They look really good when they fight, though.”

Suddenly, the guards rushed past us, and Marie grabbed my arm.

“Let’s go before you start drooling.”

Victoria’s makeshift green room was immaculate and complete with various notes for the town hall and water bottles and snacks. She also looked immaculate in her navy-blue suit and perfectly coiffed dark hair. Her eyes were wide, eerily wide, and it felt like she saw everything. Those eyes watched Marie with intensity as she explained everything with the Woods and handed over the drive.

Victoria rubbed her thumb over the device and pursed her lips. “What you just expressed to me is a serious matter. Have you told anyone else?”

“We don’t trust anyone else,” Marie answered.

“Understandable.” Victoria’s slow head nod made my blood boil and I didn’t know why. “Of course, I will get this into the right hands as soon as possible.”

“And we won’t get in trouble?” I asked.

Victoria faced me. “Of course not. If anything, you and your friends should be heralded as heroes. However, I understand your concerns and appreciate your courage in coming to me.”

I nodded stiffly. “Thank you for your time. You probably have plenty of other last-minute town hall things to do.”

“Yeah, thanks for listening,” Marie agreed as she stood.

“I do but, I also wanted to speak with Marie for a moment, alone.”

Her words made my heart rate pick up and I could hear several alarms going off in my head. Something was off with Victoria but I didn’t know what and I couldn’t just drag Marie out of there with no explanation.

I turned back to Marie, and she nodded. Slowly, I stood and one of Victoria’s assistants guided me out of the room. I couldn’t stop myself from pacing up and down the hallway. There was no telling what they were talking about, and I hated not knowing.

If only---

No, that won’t be helpful. I just had to be patient and wait for her.

But patience was hard when my gut felt so uneasy like it was on a rocking boat. I’d never met Victoria until then and I knew Coco thought she was an acceptable candidate. So, I had no cause to feel the way that I was feeling.

Maybe it was paranoia or stress; both were known to make people perceive things differently.

But my intuition was never wrong.

Finally, Marie walked out of the green room, her eyes wide but she seemed okay.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

As soon as we were out of earshot, Marie started rambling but I got the gist: Victoria was a supe with the exact same powers as Marie, she and Marie were both in the same facility as kids, and Victoria was Marie’s benefactor.

“She even told me about how she can see people’s internal organs and that it happens when you focus enough,” Marie gushed.

“That’s cool,” I mused.

The sunlight was refreshing when we got outside but it didn’t distract from the rowdy protests in front of the union. Each “Supe Lives Matter” sign made me cringe but both sides were extremely passionate. It was hard to understand why people loathed finding a middle ground so much.

“What’s wrong?” Marie asked.

“Nothing, I’m glad that we handed over the information and she was receptive,” I stated.

Marie frowned. “You’re holding back.”

The last thing I wanted to do was start a fight and I could already feel the roots of tension appearing.

“I just…I don’t have a good feeling about Victoria,” I confessed.

Marie paused in her steps and I hesitated before facing her. “What do you mean? She was our best option and she’s the one who got me in here, she can’t be that bad.”

“I know and I’m not saying she is, I just feel like something’s off.”

“Don’t start that self-sabotaging bullshit,” Marie warned.

“I’m not. You and Jordan want me to be honest and that’s what I’m trying to do. I can’t ignore my gut, Marie.”

Marie opened and closed her mouth several times. The furrow between her eyebrows was deeper than usual and I wished that I knew the best thing to say. It was difficult to tell my girlfriend that I was happy that she knew who her benefactor was but that I was also suspicious of said benefactor.

“Let’s go find Jordan,” Marie muttered.

I quietly agreed and followed Marie to the protest area since that’s where most people were. Even though I saw a couple of Greek Life people I knew, I couldn’t find Jordan.

It’s hard to say what exactly started it but in an instant, I was caught up in a sea of protestors pushing and shoving each other. Then, the shoves turned into punches and kicks. I saw several teeth get punched out of heads and people resetting their broken noses before going back in for more. All I could do was my best to dodge all the mayhem and in it, my stomach sunk when I realized that I’d lost Marie.

“Marie? Marie!” I called.

I thought I was being loud but I quickly got drowned out by the yells and grunts of the protestors. A burly jock lunged for me but I grabbed the back of his collar used the momentum to send him flying into the people behind me. I kept trying to call for Marie but got distracted by all the jostling.

Breathe, just breathe, Y/N, I thought.

Then, someone grabbed the back of my right arm and yanked me through the crowd. I yelped at the strength but couldn’t fight back as I was finally pulled to a fairly clear sidewalk. The same someone grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face them and I sighed when I made eye contact with Marie.

“Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?” Her eyes frantically searched my face and she felt all over me for any bruises. “You have some blood on your dress.”

I gasped. “Is it mine?”

Marie shook her head and hugged me.

“There you two are, we’ve gotta get out of here!” Jordan rushed as he approached us.

Marie and I pulled away and trailed after Jordan. After a few minutes, we stopped at a clear green and I slumped against a tree.

“You didn’t get in trouble for the fight?” Marie asked.

“They didn’t catch me,” he said with a wide smirk. “How did things with Neuman go?”

“Good, she actually listened to us and said she was going to hand over everything to the proper channels.” Jordan nodded. “Did she say what would happen to Shetty?”

“She wasn’t sure but probably firing,” Marie reported before glancing at me.

I huffed and pushed myself to lean straighter against the tree.

“How long will it take?” Jordan asked.

“She didn’t say,” I answered.

“But, she’ll do it; she actually wants to help, Jordan,” Marie insisted.

Then, Jordan looked at me and I glanced down at my shoes.

“What’s going on with you two?” he asked.

“Y/N’s suspicious of Victoria even though she’s willing to help us,” Marie said.

“I just have a bad feeling and I was trying to be honest,” I defended. “Plus, Jordan brought up a good question. She never gave us a timeline or the names of those she would be speaking with. There are kids still down there.”

“I’m sure Victoria will be as quick as possible. If she was willing to help me, she must be willing to help others.”

“Wait, what?” Jordan asked.

“Victoria’s my donor,” Marie explained.

“That’s amazing.” Jordan paused and looked at me. “I’m not gonna pick sides or anything but, you both have good points. Neuman is our best option to expose the Woods and have people listen. Y/N has sensitive intuition, and she might be picking up on something. But, no one should be fighting right now, especially since we just made up.”

“I didn’t mean to start a fight,” I pleaded.

“It’s not a fight, it’s a disagreement and I’m okay with dropping it for now if you are,” Marie offered.

I nodded.

“Good.” Jordan stepped closer to me and frowned. “You got caught up in the brawl.”

“I don’t think it was long, though, and I’m not hurt. Marie found me but I was able to evade several people; I even threw a guy further into the crowd.”

Jordan smiled. “That’s my freshie.”

I didn’t have long to bask in the praise since my vision was overrun with the clearest image I’d had in a long time. Cate was standing in Shetty’s pristine living room and the older woman was cowering against the wall, eyes blown wide with fear and shaking her head.

“Cate, please, don’t do this, you don’t have to do this,” Shetty’s voice echoed.

“Yes, I do, you gave me no other choice.” Cate’s voice was hollow and her eyes were bloodshot. Then, my gaze fell down to her hands and in one, she held a sizable butcher knife.

When I blinked, Jordan, Marie, Emma, and Sam were looking back at me. I flinched a little.

“Do you zone out a lot?” Sam asked.

“No, Y/N just had a vision,” Emma replied with a grin.

I slightly nodded and pushed myself off the tree. “We need to get to Cate, now.”

Shetty’s house was as pristine as any college dean’s would be: the houseplants throughout the house accentuated the ivory and pastel décor and the scent of chamomile filled the house. The space in itself oozed serenity but I felt my skin buzzing as I traipsed through the house with my friends.

Just like in my vision, Cate was standing in the living room, her back facing us. Across the room, Shetty cowered against the wall and kept trying to crawl to no avail.

“Cate, what’s going on?” Jordan asked.

When she turned to us, everyone else gasped except me. Cate’s pupils were dilated, and her eyes were redder than I’d ever seen them. Her arms rested at her sides and the butcher knife glinted in one of her ungloved hands. Cate’s loose posture would have been more concerning if I hadn’t seen what I saw.

“You were fast,” Cate commented.

“We were on our way when you called me,” Marie shared.

“I caught a glimpse of what was going on and thought we should all talk,” I added.

Cate smiled and walked over to me. “Your powers are back, that’s amazing.” She went to grab both of my hands, but I flinched.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Y/N, please, help me,” Shetty pleaded.

Cate whirled towards her. “Shut up! Only speak when I tell you.”

Shetty immediately closed her mouth but nothing Cate said wiped the terrified expression off the dean’s face.

“Cate, I think you pushed too much. Why don’t we sit down and you tell us what’s going on?” Marie offered.

“Also, where’s Andre?” Jordan asked.

“He had to go into the city and I feel perfectly fine. I realized that it wasn’t my powers that were making me sick, it was the prescription Shetty gave me,” Cate stated.

“What?” Emma asked.

If the prescription Cate took for her headaches somehow dulled her powers, then that meant…

“She gave you suppressants,” I concluded.

Cate nodded. “Exactly.” She turned away and started walking towards Shetty. “When Indira came home, I got her to admit to everything she’s been doing. Plus, the clips I saw from the town hall inspired me. We’ve been letting non-supes control us for far too long. They’re just scared of us because they know we should be the ones running things.”

While Cate was partly right about some non-supes being scared of supes, that didn’t mean the answer was to subjugate all of them. The situation was worse than my vision led me to believe and I wracked my brain for the best words.

“Cate, you don’t have to do this. We gave over all the information to Neuman and she’ll get it out soon,” Marie offered.

“Yeah, all of this will be exposed and Shetty and everyone else involved will face the repercussions that they should,” Jordan added.

Cate seemed unimpressed as she glanced at the knife in her hand. “That’s too good for Indira.” She faced the woman. “You brainwashed me and made me believe I was helping Luke when I was part of the reason he died. I should have reported you as soon as I got suspicious.”

Shetty shrunk away from her as much as possible and made some sort of noise behind her closed lips.

“Cate, that’s enough,” I tried.

The blonde turned to me. “Don’t you want to know why she wanted us to stay so close? Just ask and I’ll make her say.”

“You don’t have to do that, Y/N,” Jordan said.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Emma voiced.

As I stared at the petrified dean, my curiosity didn’t matter. What did matter was that Cate was unhinged and I had to talk her down. She didn’t have her gloves on, which meant that she could peek into any of our heads at will. The best solution was to keep my head as clear as possible.

I took a deep breath and did my best to sweep away any annoying thoughts.

“I appreciate the thought but it’s okay. I don’t care about that anymore; I care about you.” I approached Cate like a zookeeper would approach a tiger. Her eyes never left mine and I forced myself to relax as I grabbed her free hand. “I’m still hurt by what you did but that doesn’t mean I hate you; none of us hate you. You’re one of my best friends and I know you have good intentions and Shetty took advantage of that.”

Cate nodded and breathed. “She did.”

“Yeah. So, why don’t we get out of here and let the police or whoever’s in charge of taking down people like her do their jobs? We can go get milkshakes at Vought-a-Burger if you want.”

Cate paused for a moment and mulled over my words. My heart rate felt like it raised with each passing second. Then, she eyed me. “Thanks for trying, Y/N but this is for your own good.”

“Cate---”

“Indira, tell Y/N what your plans were for her,” Cate cut me off.

Shetty sat up and responded, “Upon receiving your application and seeing your powers, my plan was to admit you into the school but admit you to the Woods before the end of your first semester.”

“What?” The word felt like it was punched out of me and I took a step away from Cate.

Shetty continued, “A future probability supe with a ten percent margin of error is too dangerous. There is no way of predicting any of your moves or motives and I wanted you sedated and monitored. But Brink stopped me just before sending out acceptance letters; he insisted that you were much more useful in the classroom than you were in a lab.”

My stomach churned as I kept backing away from Cate, whose gaze never left mine, and Shetty. I could feel my neck and shoulders tense and I suddenly felt lightheaded.

“Stop,” I requested.

“Keep going,” Cate instructed.

“Cate, stop!” Emma pleaded.

“She needs to hear this.”

“I disagreed with him but set up check-ins with you in an attempt to get his perspective. On first impression, I knew that you were intelligent but anxious and you had no malintent in your power use. I paired you with Cate as a peer mentor because I knew she would be able to keep a close eye on you and make sure you were taking your medicine without being suspicious,” Shetty articulated.

“Did you put me on power suppressants too?” I asked.

“Partly. In each session, I made sure to play upon your insecurities, which would heighten your anxiety. You had so much self-doubt that your attempts to strengthen your powers were limited. Also, the medication I gave you only included a minimal amount of anti-anxiety medication. It also included power suppressants that dulled your abilities but not so much that you would notice.”

For a year and a half, I aired out all my insecurities, fears, goals, and grievances with Dean Shetty. She’d always made me feel secure in her office and was quick to offer advice. She listened every time I cried about my parents and gave me ginger tea after each episode. The fact that she’d been manipulating me and drugging me this whole time made it feel like the floor fell out from under me.

When I remembered she wanted me committed underground, I had to take really deep breaths.

She never cared about me or Cate; we were the enemy. Everything we told her was just more ammo that she could use.

“You never helped me; you almost made me worse,” I hissed.

“You’re too dangerous, all you supes are! It’s just a matter of time before you kill us all!” Shetty snapped.

“So, you kill us first?” Jordan shot back.

Shetty didn’t respond but glared defiantly at Jordan.

“She’s the enemy, Y/N, they all are. We can’t let them control us anymore,” Cate insisted.

“But hurting her doesn’t make us any better,” I whispered.

Cate nodded slowly. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

She turned on her heel and walked back over to Shetty and I couldn’t take my eyes off the knife.

“Cate, wait, I get that Shetty’s deplorable, but she isn’t worth killing,” I pleaded.

That and all my other pleas fell on deaf ears as Cate walked over to Shetty. She turned to me and glanced at the others behind me, all were similarly asking her to stop.

“Slit your throat, Indira,” Cate ordered, handing the butcher knife to Shetty.

The woman easily accepted it and obeyed the commandment in one swift motion. The gurgling noises were the worst and my hands slapped across my mouth as I forced myself to take deep even breaths. Then, Marie brushed past me, gently pushing me closer to the others as she approached Cate.

Marie stretched a hand towards Shetty but Cate grabbed her arm.

“Cate, let me help her,” Marie insisted.

“I can’t do that. This is what she deserves,” Cate said slowly.

For a moment I froze. Part of me wanted to lunge forward and free Marie and the other wanted to get as far away from the bloody scene as possible. Either way, I knew that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the life slowly draining from Shetty’s.

Taglist: @gardenof-venus @badbishsblog @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @darksoul100 @simiinthemirror

#black!reader #jordan li x reader #gen v x reader #marie moreau x reader #limoreau x reader

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skyward-floored · 1 month

Text

Time discovers the plan

(Incredibles au)

The other movie scene I mentioned I’d post today :) This comes right before the first ever fic I wrote for this au, and it was very fun to write. Though I have the urge to rewrite that one now, I could do it so much better now that it’s been two years... eh, it is what it is. Please enjoy Time having a bad time.

ao3 link (coming soon)

————————————————————

Time’s mind whirled as he snuck his way into Dark’s base, slipping past some guards while knocking others out. Most didn’t put up too much of a fight, which left him with plenty of time to think as he crept around.

This was all so much worse then he ever could have imagined.

He’d nearly been killed just like poor Blazing Fist, all because of Dark. Time had thought this was just a government operation, but instead it... he didn’t even fully know what was going on. He was still wrapping his head around Dark being the obsessive kid who’d nearly gotten them both killed all those years ago because he didn’t know when to stop.

But right now, Time needed to figure out Dark’s plan. He had an advantage right now— Dark thought he was dead, and Blazing Fist had left a message burnt onto the wall, a word that must be important. Time kept that word in the forefront of his mind as he finally reached the room with the lava fall, determination speeding his steps.

He would figure out Dark’s plan. And he would stop it.

Time looked around for something to protect him from the lava flow, and settled on a large statue set in the corner. He drew on his powers and hefted it above him, then squared up with the falls, narrowing his eyes. He would have to be fast. The statue was solid rock, but even that wouldn’t last forever under a continuous assault of lava.

Time breathed in, then out.

Okay.

Here we go.

Time tensed in preparation to sprint, but right as he moved, a loud booming sound signaled the wall about to open.

Time lurched to a halt, the abrupt stop to his movement nearly making him drop the statue. He scrambled to regain his balance as it teetered on his shoulders, then stumbled backwards in order to get out of sight of the people emerging from the secret hall.

He made it to the corner just in time, and set the statue down as quietly as possible. It still made a loud noise, but the lava mostly covered it, enough that he wasn’t found out. Time remained quiet as a mouse as he heard Dark say something to Sheik, their footsteps tapping right past his hiding spot. Nothing they said was of particular note, and he watched them carefully as they hurried away.

Then they were gone, and Time bolted, running for the lava flow as it began to close in again.

He spared a thought towards Wild as he sprinted, the walls quickly closing in on him. The heat was nearly unbearable, but Time kept running, keeping his eyes fixed on the distant opening he could see.

The lava was so bright and hot it hurt his eyes, his supersuit the only thing keeping him from bursting into flames. Time’s skin burned as he ran for the exit, and he held back a shout as he threw himself forward, the walls slamming shut mere inches from his feet.

Time rolled as he landed, and slowly stood as he caught his breath from his sprint. The room he’d landed in was dark, but not impossible to see in due to the huge, dimly-lit screen at the end of a thin walkway.

A steep drop waited on either side of him, but Time crept forward without fear, his steps light and quick. He reached the screen in moments, and looked up at it, pondering. It seemed to be a normal keyboard below, and Time lightly pressed a button.

The screen brightened at the touch, displaying several lines, and one simple question glared at him.

PASSWORD?

Time’s heart sank. He had a feeling he would probably be able to guess the code given all the time in the world, but he knew he didn’t have long. The guards he’d knocked out wouldn’t stay that way forever, and Dark would likely return before long. There might be cameras on him right now.

Time tapped his gloved hands on the side of the console, mind sorting through dozens of options as precious seconds ticked by.

Then he remembered the word Blazing Fist had left for him.

Nocte.

Time carefully typed it in, and the computer admitted him with a soft chime, putting him on a menu with a couple of options. Time’s heart pounded as he looked at them all, and he zeroed in on the one in the middle labeled Supers.

He clicked on it with a mounting level of dread, and names began appearing, superhero names, along with information and pictures of them and the Guardian prototypes they’d fought.

And been killed by.

Time’s throat tightened as names breezed by, many he recognized from years of hero work. Some had put up a fight, lasting through multiple iterations of Guardians, but in the end, all of them had red words dashed across their photos, labeling them as dead from Dark’s project.

They just kept coming, more and more names flashing across the screen, some familiar, some not. But with every note that indicated the hero had died because of Dark’s insane project, the cavern in Time’s chest grew, and he bowed his head in grief.

So many dead...

His own name flashed by, the same red TERMINATED across his face, and a thought suddenly occurred to him. Time quickly typed in Malon’s hero name, anxiety rising, but relief swept over him at the near complete lack of information that showed up. Dark had no idea who she was, or where she was.

She’s safe.

He leaned back and let out a shaky sigh of relief, but then another thought surfaced in his mind, one almost too terrifying to check on.

But he had to know.

Time swallowed, then quickly typed in the name Crimson Loftwing. Dread crept over him like a spider, his hands shaking as the computer loaded, and Time forced himself to still them as he waited. Maybe it’s unconnected, maybe he’s—

The screen blinked, then a neat list appeared, detailing a concerning amount of information on Sky. A picture of him as Crimson Loftwing appeared moments later, the hero smiling brightly as he stood next to a statue of the legendary bird he took his hero name from.

The word TERMINATED appeared over him in bright red letters.

Time let out a broken-sounding breath, and ran a hand through his bangs.

Oh Sky...

Time had purposely buried whatever hope he’d had left that Sky was alive somewhere, the pain of holding on to it just too much to bear. But apparently there’d still been some left, even after more than a year of him missing.

And now it was gone.

Time closed his eyes and ignored how it felt like he’d been punched in the gut, pushing the new grief that was mixing with the old to the side. The confirmed loss of someone he considered as both a brother and son would have to wait until he’d stopped what was going on.

Sky I’m so sorry.

Time took a deep breath, and typed in Warriors’ hero name then, freezing at the sheer amount of information that came up. They knew his name, his real name, his powers, where he lived, who he was married to and even who Artemis was...

He’d been going for them next.

Time swallowed thickly, and realized that he was getting distracted. He pushed past his fear and grief and horribly distracting feelings, and went back to the main menu, clicking on the one labeled Project Nocte.

He scanned the notes inside, clicking past schematics and blueprints. A button caught his attention, and Time pressed it, watching worriedly as a slideshow began to play. It showed the Guardian robot fitting neatly into a rocket Dark had designed, then flying across the ocean and landing right in Hyrule’s capital. It began to wreak havoc on the unassuming city in the image, and then a countdown appeared, showing less than a day until the rocket was scheduled to launch.

Time breathed in sharply, eyes fixed on the number.

He had to stop that rocket.

No matter what.

He stepped away from the computer, mind whirling with information and urgency, then bolted back the way he came.

He’d taken all of three steps before the symbol on the front of his suit lit up, and let out a rapid stream of beeps.

Time looked at it in confused shock, and an alarm blared, harsh lights blinding him as they turned on. The blaring tone ground into his ears, and Time didn’t even have a moment to figure out what exactly had just happened.

The whizz of something being shot rang out over the alarm, and Time jerked his head up to see small cannons shooting black orbs towards him, ones that stuck to the ground and made an odd fizzing sound.

One hit his hand, and when Time tried to shake it off, it only grew, in both size and weight.

Time to go.

Time ran, dodging the projectiles as much as he could. The whole wall was lined with cannons though, shooting almost endless streams of the black blobs. Several hit Time’s arms and legs, one even hitting his shoulder right next to his face, but he kept going, pushing himself as hard as he could.

Even when he fell to his knees, weighed down by the growing blobs that just kept coming, he attempted to crawl forward, refusing to quit.

He gasped as one began to cover his face, dragging himself forward as he slowed even further. He didn’t know what would happen when it covered his mouth, but he knew he was about to find out. His mind began to grow fuzzy as he crawled, and he had the panicked realization that he was somehow being drugged by the material spreading over him.

No! Not like this! he thought, gasping as he was dragged to the ground, the weight finally too much. Dark can’t win, he can’t, I have to stop this, for Blazing Fist, for Sky—

His body was almost entirely covered now, and Time let out one last desperate and frustrated cry before his face was covered, catching sight of a blurry figure approaching him.

Then he knew nothing.

#Malon just had to push the tracker button right at that moment...#incredibles au #Incredibles au fic #IAU Time #linkeduniverse #linked universe #fic #writing from the floor #rip time lol his day only gets worse from here

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lovingchrissposts · 9 months

Text

Jawline

.💖😽

warnings: making out, use of y/n, slight touching, name calling, sweet, soft, short!

I’ve always had some obsession with Chris’s jawline. It was just so.. hot. I know most girls don’t like admitting it, add me to the list. But what I would kill to have a jaw line as sharp as his is priceless.

It’s around 11:34 at night and I’m in Chris’s bed. I’m wearing one of his white “Ransom” t-shirts and my black Nike pros. I have my phone in my hand scrolling on instagram liking and commenting my friends posts. I let out a soft sigh.

“Chrissy.” I whine softly putting my phone down on my chest. He glances over at me noticing my body language. He chuckles softly and clicks a few keys on his keyboard. He grips the arm rests standing up. I smile as he does. He clicks the power button on his pc.

God from this angle he looked so good. I stared at his jawline getting shivers down my spine just thinking about kissing it.

“I’m comin’ ma.” He states before walking over to his bed I’m in. He gets to me and sees my phone on my chest. I glance down at it and he grabs it sliding it into his hands. He places it on the Nightstand next to the bed.

“What’s goin’ on y/n?” Chris asks me before crawling over me to lay next to me on the bed. I roll over so we are both facing each other.

“I just want attention.” I admit glancing down at his jawline, his knife sharp jaw.. god how was i so lucky to land on him. He chuckles softly at my response and drags his hand with the silver bracelet onto my waist. I smile at him and he smiles back. “You have cute dimples.” He whispers poking my cheek making me giggle.

“Chriss!” I whin softly giggling before grabbing his wrist. He glances at our hands and stops poking me. We never have really held hands. I mean sure sometimes but not just like, out of the blue. Like this. I also glance up at our hands which makes me and I blush softly. Chris looks down at me and he softly presses our lips together before he pulls away making a little sound. We both realize we want more.

Chris chuckles and snakes his hand back down to my waist. Shit, shit, shit. I can feel my face immediately going red.

“Relax ma,” Chris whispers into my ear, making his jaw and neck right next to my face. Oh my god it’s right there. I feel my heart flutter. He kisses the side of my face. I grab onto one of the thick straps from his tank top.

He feels me grab his shirt and he starts to kiss my jaw softly. “Oh.” I whisper causing him to softly chuckle against my jaw. I giggle with my mouth closed softly scared he’s gonna stop. He rolls over on top of me pulling away from my jaw.

“Hey,” he whispers in his super hot, low, gruffly voice. God he makes me fucking crazy.

“hi.” I whisper feeling a little shy. He just chuckles making me giggle back. He kneels over me, his knees on either side of my hips/waist. He pulls away slightly and takes my hands in his. He can obviously tell I’m super shy, (if it wasn’t obvious to him already.)

“You doing okay there?” He asks me and I nod my head, he sighs softly and puts a finger under my chin making me look at him straight in the eyes. “Can you use your pretty little words?” I open my mouth to talk.

“Yes, I’m doing okay, just a little ner-“ I start to say but he cuts me off by pressing his lips against mine. Oh my god, every time he kisses me I feel something in my stomach fluttering around. I kiss his soft, plush, pink lips back.

My hands find their way to his jawline. I loved kissing him. It was perfect. He never rushed me through it, he always guided my hands everywhere but.. I wanted to do it by myself. I didn’t need him telling me what to do, don’t get me wrong i absolutely love Chris with my whole heart but I think we’ve kissed enough that I’ve got it down.

“ Chris?” I ask softly pulling back and he also pulls back and looks me in the eyes.

“Yeah?” He asks his lips still wet, his hair slightly messy from his headset. I Shake my head telling him ‘never mind.’ He gives me the look To tell him either way. I sigh softly but give in.

“You don’t need to tell me what to d..doo…” my voice trails off as his lips cling onto my neck. He just softly mumbles against it something inaudible but I just nod softly and bite my lower lip, I exhale focusing on the small nips and kisses against my neck. “Chris don’t stop please.” I whine softly and he nods against my neck.

Once he’s obviously left his mark on my neck he pulls back making me whine softly and he just chuckles softly. “Baby, I gave you what you wanted.” He comments and I look up at him nodding. “I know, I just love you- WAIT-“ shit, shit, shit, why did I say that?!? he chuckles and presses his lips against mine again before pulling back softly. “I love you too y/n, never forget that.”

Ok um, so I got this idea in the shower and I was OH EM GEEEE so I wrote it down and I’m so sorry it took so long to make, but like I can’t even be in the wrong here, Chris’s jawline is like 😻😻😻😻😻😻😻 LIKE DAYUMMMM. Anywhozle I hope u enjoyed and I’m so sorry it took fucking forever to come out. 😜 #schoolsucksass

#sturniolo triplets #artists on tumblr #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #preppy #school #making out

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jokingmisfit · 5 months

Text

Not Yet Forgotten

Platonic Future Hamato Brothers x Neglected Reader

Warnings- Angst with Happy Ending, Reader is Casey Jr's Sibling, Neglectful Parental Figures, Severe Injuries, Mentions of Blood and Broken Bones, Near Death Experience, Hurt with Comfort, Head Injury, Mention of Reader having Mystic Powers

Notes- I may make a different version from 3rd person pov to show how bad the boys felt. I don't know anything about medicine so please forgive me for any incorrect everything. Wrote this right before therapy and I think it shows. Lol, Enjoy!

Your breathing was fast, but muffled through your hand. It felt like your lungs were on fire. You don't know how far you've run, but you hope that it's far enough.

Only an hour earlier, Krang dogs surrounded you and your crew. The rest were already dead... You were frightened and angry. You knew that if only they'd taught you how to fight as well as they had Casey, then you wouldn't be in this situation. They didn't care for you. Your brother being far too important, apparently, for you to be cared for at all.

Made sense in your mind. You didn't look like your mother like Casey did. Didn't share a name or even blood. Just another "stray" she'd picked up, but she loved you. In her own way. Too bad when she died the knowledge she left you with was all you'd be given. No sessions with Leonardo. No kind words from Michelangelo or Raphael. No scolding on health or knowledge from Donatello. It was like you were invisible. Unimportant.

You and your team had done so much. Achieved amazing things, but every achievement was overlooked. Every injury was ignored. Perhaps you did learn a few things... Fending for yourself. That didn't help now, though.

Climbing the rubble. You could feel the parts of your body move in ways they weren't made for. You were strong but how strong would you have to be to defy death itself. You had sent out the SOS so long ago, yet it seems as if nobody will come.

Your blood stained broken concrete rocks. You prayed to whatever higher being was above that, just this once, they wouldn't overlook you. That the people who were supposed to care the most would save you.

You finally collapsed at the top of the heap. Only small peaks of the red sky could be seen. You were safe, for now, but you were bloodied and broken. Your stash of medical supplies were carried by a dead man. You wouldn't last, not long, at least.

You hit the alert again seeing as the purple light went out. Hitting the button over and over as your breath thinned. It felt harder to breathe with every second.

An alert came back to you. A communication. You heard April once say it was like a phone call. Whatever that was. You pressed the button to hear the voice on the other end. It was Donatellos.

"Are you there? Can you hear me?" His voice was wavering. Something you'd never heard before.

With a raspy tone you whispered out your response. "You got... got te loc-location right?"

He sighed on the other end. "Yes we have it. A rescue team has already found the rest. Where are you hurt?"

"Hehe." Your laugh is cut off by coughing. Blood bubbling up in your lungs and throat. Looking at the gashes and stuck out bones, you answer. "Every- Everywhere..."

Silence met you on the other end. Silence and the clicking of the keyboard.

A deep breath, and you talk again. "I know... I- I know you all... Probably don't- don't care... but I don't wanna die... I don wanna die." A sob escapes your mouth, cutting off your sentence.

The pain and fear causing tears to cascade down your face.

The clicking stopped at your words.

Donatello responds after a few seconds. "They're almost there... I- You need to stay awake and you'll be fine. We- I won't let you die."

"I'm- I'm so sorry..." Your breath stops in your chest. "I shoulda- should of done better... I try- tried so hard... Was never good enough. I can't- can't breathe." Your words are heavy and painful as you sob them out.

"HELLO!" You heard Leonardo yell.

Before you had a chance to answer a light came from your gear. The communication line ending and sends an alert to the other mutant.

Footsteps could be heard from multiple beings. Talking and panic is heard as you stare at the broken roof with blurry eyes.

Raphael's face coming into view before anything else. If you weren't in so much pain you'd smile at him. Instead you stare as he picks you up gently. His words sound soft but melt in your head making them unknown. He holds you close and moves quickly.

A whisper escapes you. "you came..." The statement soft and broken from your lips. The only evidence he heard you being the tilt of his head as he stares with worried eyes.

You held on tightly to your consciences. You held on for however long it took to be laid on a table. Long enough to have something put over your face. Long enough to feel a hand pet your head slightly as your eyes finally close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It hurt. Everything hurt. Your eyes flutter open, but they're unfocused.

"They're awake!" You heard someone yell.

You flinch at the noise. A whine escaping the back of your throat from the pain.

"Be quiet. They're not going to react well to loud noises." You heard another voice scolds matter-of-factly.

You huff out heavy breaths. You try sitting up only for a large hand to, gently, hold you down. You blink several times to try and see better. Figures, shapes, and colors bounced around but nothing appeared sensical.

"How are they?" A voice says nervously and stern at the same time. Their footsteps stop towards you.

The hands that were moving on and around you pause for a moment before an answer. "They're discombobulated."

"What the hell? English, Donnie." The voice answers.

Your voice is scratchy and comes out in squeaks. "Don- Donnie?"

Your question goes unanswered, but you were glad you finally knew who one of the voices belonged to. You were with Donatello.

"They had a head injury, so their brains jumbled. They can't see straight... At least we can be sure that they can hear fine." He answers with distaste.

A hand sets itself on your head and plays with your hair. The voice above you talks nervously. "So shouldn't we be talking to them? They're probably so scared right now. Aren't you?"

You realize that the end was directed at you, but you lost the energy to answer. You tried to speak, but nothing came out, as if your body didn't agree with your mind."

"Mikey’s right," The deep voice spoke. "We need to comfort them right now."

You wanted to tell them not to force themselves. That you knew they were only here because you were hurt. That once you were better they'd go back to the way it was before. But you couldn't speak, and the feeling of actually being cared for felt so nice.

The weight in your chest may have been painful, but it felt so good to be loved. If your head wasn't so fuzzy you might have cried.

Your name was called, almost urgently. You hadn't realized you weren't listening. So caught up in your own head that you forgot to listen.

You looked slightly to the person calling out to you.

"You still in there, kid? Lost ya there for a second huh?" You could hear the smile in his voice.

That was Leonardo right. He's the one to smile when things are bad. That means the deep voice was Raphael... All four of them were there for you.

You wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Maybe you were imagining things?

"You need to relax. Your heart rate is spiking..." Donatello tells you strictly.

Raphael's voice picked up from the foot of your bed. "Don, I don't think they can necessarily control that... Y'know?"

"Sigh," Donatello answers him. "I'll fix it myself."

You felt the bed adjust, setting you up slightly. You felt his hand on your arm fiddle with something sticking out of it.

You felt calmer, almost, instantly. Surprisingly, your vision cleared slightly. Things still blurred but you could make out their faces so much more.

A crowd of turtles that left no space to see what room you were in. The lights still felt too bright, yet they were dimmer than any room you’ve been to. The blue lights gave you more of a clue. The screens lights bouncing and reflecting off the men. Was this Donatello’s lab? It had to be.

With your eyes now clearer you were able to hold them onto the figures separately. Their blurred faces held concern, fear… It was definitely a sight.

“You feelin’ better?” Raphael asked sweetly. He loomed over the edge of the bed, yet still he managed to keep a distance.

Despite the medicine making you feel better your head and chest still layed heavy on the bed. The only response you could manage was a broken noise from the back of your throat.

Leonardo laughs sadly. “Y’know maybe we shouldn’t ask them too many questions, heh.”

If you could shake your head in agreement you would. The other three certainly did, or at least it looked like they did.

You took a deep breath in and out letting everything sink into your skin, into your bones. You had your own list of questions you wanted to ask them. Like, how bad is the damage? Why are all four of you here, there’s more important things to do? Did any of the others live?

You could feel all four eyes on you. Feel them stare like you were the only thing worth looking at. It confused you, so you turned your eyes to the only one who you knew had all the answers, Donatello.

“Right, well I suppose you want answers. Yes?” He asked, oddly nervous. “Where to start,” he whispered to his screen before sighing. “You have a major concussion, obviously, you have two broken ribs, a broken leg, a sprain in your right arm, you have large lacerations on your abdomen, and you had punctured one of your lungs.” He lists off easily. “All of which have been cared for, however you will be immobile for quite a while. I estimate approximately 12 weeks and 3 days. Do you understand?” He asks you calmly.

You huffed at him, hoping he would understand that you were listening. He seemed satisfied with your response and went back to typing on the screen. Of course you were slightly confused by this as you hoped he’d elaborate on why they were all there.

Clearly noticing your confusion Raphael talks with guilt. “I think they’re confused on why we’re here…”

He says it like he can read your mind.

“Why would they be confused about that?” Michelangelo laughs out shakily.

“Probably, because we’ve neglected them for years.” Donatello answers within seconds.

Leonardo being the next to speak, like they were taking turns. “We really fucked up that bad, huh kid?”

You couldn’t hold his gaze. The guilt was so evident on his face. You’d never imagined they’d realize what they’ve done. You pictured you’d grow into an adult and leave the Resistance without anyone knowing you were gone.

“Listen, I know- We know we should’ve done better for you…” Leonardo sighs. “You are just as important as everyone else. As the Resistance. As Casey Jr. I was always so caught up with him and being a leader I forgot that I had to be there for you. You always seem to have a hold on everything. Always seemed so sure. So confident… I never thought you might need help to. It was such a terrible mistake and I should have known better, should’ve been more and done more for you,” He leans over and grabs your hand gently. “I promise to never act like that again. I will never let anything hurt you like this. I will never leave you alone again. I swear on my life kid I will do anything, everything to make this up to you.” Tears from his eyes fell onto your clasped hands.

You couldn’t hide the shock from your eyes as you were crying too. It was like your body finally jump started and tears fell so freely.

“You were always so strong,” Raphael starts. “I don’t think any of us thought that our lack of attention would hurt you so much. You always shined so brightly on your own.” He chuckled sadly. “I never thought you’d need us so much, Jr’s strong too, but he relied on your mom more than you so when she died we- I thought you could handle yourself. You’d never seemed to waver. I’m so sorry.”

The regret he held in his words weighed heavy on your mind causing more tears to fall from your eyes.

“My turn already?” Michelangelo laughed, tears in his own eyes. “Heh, I remember this one time I was talking to one of your group members, she seemed so excited to join your team. I remember I asked her what she was so excited for… It was you. She told me that she had seen you and your team fight. Saw how well you worked together, but she was mesmerized by you. She told me years ago she idolized me for my mystic abilities,” He laughs quietly. “But she admitted in this conversation that she idolized you even more. Because you were more like her than I was and your mystic abilities were so strong…” He pauses with a sad silence. “A part of that conversation fortified in my mind that you didn’t need anyone. You were able to figure everything out all on your own. Lead your own team. Fight and save lives like a pro. I should have taken into perspective your feelings. I used to be so good at feelings, but it seems I’ve lost my way a little bit. But I promise not anymore. You’re never going to feel left out again. I guarantee it!” He ends off happily

Silence fills the room. The only thing truly heard was the buzz of machines and various sniffles.

The silence was cut off again by Raphael. “Donnie… Are you going to say anything?” He asked both encouragingly and authoritatively.

“Sigh.” Donatello stated tiredly. He turned to face you more. “I’m not good with emotions. They were never something I could grasp fully. I’ve worked hard on fixing that, but I see in some areas I have… failed. I personally assumed if you needed help you would come to me, however looking back it’s clear you had and I pushed you away.” He states uncomfortably. “As an adult I should have been more prepared and I wasn’t… You were just a child, you are a child, and you’ve experienced so much on your own. I can assure that we plan on remedying that.” He ends sincerely.

After listening carefully to all their words your heart swelled with happiness. You were still afraid that they may not be true, but you were hopeful and so glad to finally be seen. The love you felt radiate off them in blissful waves made you smile. You forgave them as soon as their words left their mouths. As soon as they told you they cared. There was nothing better than feeling true love for what felt like the first time. You couldn’t help but be happy.

“Get some sleep, Kid,” Leonardo says. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

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