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always-andromeda · 2 years ago

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xiii. sound of a love song | Joby Taylor x fem!Reader

Joby Taylor x fem!Reader

Word Count | 5,476

Summary | Ready to give him a piece of your mind, you and Joby make a lot of startling revelations.

Author’s Note | buckle yourselves up, friends. that's all I gotta say about this one. also gonna be ghosting for a few hours after posting this! maybe send me asks on what y'all think of the chapter for me to read afterwards? (don't make me beg......pretty please)

Warnings | bits of fluff, smut (MDNI), and fighting (the best combination lmao), unprotected sex, overstimulation, nothing else I can think of!

You slammed the hotel room door behind you and kept your hand on the knob. Though you weren't looking, you heard the squeak of springs as Joby plunked down on the bed.

For every aggravating thing he'd done in the time you'd known him, it was almost comical that it was that little sound that set off the time bomb in your head. Your ears perked up as you listened to him unzip the sides of his boots, sliding them off and setting them to the side. Then you could feel his stare hitting your back, practically burning a hole in his jacket.

Somehow, through the anger, you hadn't thought to take it off; hadn't even imagined the moment where you'd have to shed this second skin and lose another layer of his comfort.

"I assume you have something to say." Joby finally states blankly. You can already hear the indifference. And it makes you furious. Just that morning it was all about ‘we’. He was begging for a morning kiss. Reaching for you in bed like he was going to actually hold you in the light of day. That tiny, unfathomable ‘we’ tied you to him in a way that made so much sense, yet, it drove you absolutely insane.

“What...the fuck...was that?” Your demand was frank, wrought with the control you needed over the situation.

You thought back to that night in your apartment. From the beginning, he had made his intentions crystal clear. If anything, you were the fool for sticking around so long, believing he could resign to anything close to friendship. For a few, silly, split seconds, you thought he could.

“What was what?” He scoffed.

Right then you whipped around and snapped at him, “Don’t you play dumb with me, Joby Taylor. What the fuck was that all about?”

“You mean me playing your song?”

Your flushed face screwed up, “What else could I possibly be angry about?”

“I don’t know. I thought you’d be pretty fucking happy about it.” He mumbled, glaring at you from beneath half lidded eyes.

“Why would I be happy with you stealing and performing a silly old song I wrote when I was teenager?”

“First of all, it wasn't silly.” He said matter of factly. “Second, I thought it would show you that someone has their fucking eyes open.”

“So you show me that by embarrassing me with that song?” Your hands expressed your skeptical confusion. How could he be so selfish? So willfully ignorant of his actions?

He waved the grievance away and grimaced, “Fine, forget about the old song. I’ll just go fuck myself, I guess, and you can go back to living in la la land pretending that everything is totally fine and totally normal and that I didn’t put my entire heart out on my sleeve there.” He cracked an obviously annoyed smile at the end.

His entitlement was becoming more and more infuriating. As much as you didn't want to yell, you couldn't help the harsh words that were brewing in your chest.

You exploded, “I am so sick of this self righteous bullshit! Ever since you met me, Joby, you’ve been falling for this completely idealized version of me. You think I’m a troubled girl who can save you from yourself. Fucking, news flash, I’m not your fantasy. I'm just someone who was stupid enough to tolerate your bullshit.”

He stood, a bitter snicker already growing on his face, “You’re right, I have been falling for an idealized version of you. Because in reality, you don’t believe in yourself enough to just leave all of the bullshit behind.”

"Excuse me?”

“You heard me. The woman I wrote about and romanticized would know that she doesn’t need that fucking douchebag to do everything she wants to. That version of knows that she’s the coolest fucking person around and isn’t afraid of anyone knowing it.”

Before you could make it stop, your eyes were glossing over. The woman I wrote about. From anyone else, it might've made your heart flutter. But from Joby Taylor...the man who wrote bland song after bland song about sex and substances just to fuel his ego...it came like an insult. You'd never heard a Snake Trouble song that had been sentimental or heartfelt. Every line was about some new girl, drug, or party that seemed to ornament his life.

The idea that you were just another decoration to him...another line in a song that he'd get sick of playing...it was enough to send you over the edge.

Breathing hard, you said, “You...asshole. So you were writing about me?”

“Yeah? And?" He narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth hung open in that cocky way as he said, "As if you weren’t writing about me either.”

It's been long enough that you know not to play into his game. You shouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you get nervous. It would only make him plunge his heels further in the mud.

“I’ve never written a thing about you.” You defended yourself. But not even you could believe your quivering voice and aching throat as you swallowed back a sob.

Joby laughed then. And that's what made your facade falter completely.

He countered, “Oh, fucking come on. Hiding behind a cigarette screen, dancing as I fall asleep? A bottle of rouge makes me wanna know you? Wasting a night, but I have your brown eyes?" Joby recited the lines from your notebook in broken pieces, but you got the gyst of them. "You’re telling me that none of that was about me? About us? Because the last time I checked, your boyfriend doesn’t smoke cigarettes and drink wine with you. And isn’t he a blue eyed motherfucker? I don’t fuckin' remember. But I’m sure we both know who definitely has brown fuckin' eyes.”

He's right. The proof stares into yours. A lot deeper than you'd like them to.

You can't even begin to scrap together the little shreds of anger and betrayal that his words tear into you. Besides, anger wouldn't stop him. Anger would only tell him that he was winning; that if he just poked and prodded a little bit more, he'd reduce you to a giant mess. All he wanted was to sweep you up and dump you in his bed again. And his taunting brown eyes were still fucking there.

“I made it all up. Have some fucking imagination for once.”

Joby picked apart the excuse immediately, “I thought you said you write what you know? And I’d say this sounds like how we know each other. Face it, this entire fucking time you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you don’t give a shit about me." He smirks devilishly, "But you can’t stop thinking about me. You’re just too scared to admit that you actually feel something for someone. It’s too close for you, huh?”

“As if you don’t know anything about being afraid of feelings.” You asserted, voice only a little wobbly. Still, it doesn't escape Joby's notice.

And as much as he wants his point to hit home, something drags him back.

You're going too far. You're only going to make this fall apart.

He visualizes the vines shriveling away and dying on the trellis. All the ripe fruit, waiting to be picked, spontaneously turning to dust. After everything you'd both done...it wouldn't have been fair. To hurt you like he had after that first night…after he promised he wouldn’t do it again? He was sure he’d done many little things that made you angry with him. But this was new. He could choose himself or he can choose you. And by now, he knew which one he’d choose any day.

Joby’s hand reached for yours and you limply let him take it. He dipped his head, shifting so you'd meet his gaze again. You're far too set on the drywall behind him.

Voice softening, he tried again, “You scared the shit out of me. So, yeah, I was an asshole about it sometimes. But here I fucking am, baby. Because I couldn’t deal with it if I spent all of this time being so fucking obsessed with you just for you to say that you’re too afraid to do anything about it.”

“I’m not—" your voice broke before you looked at him, lips pulled into a thin line. "I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Then why does the idea of me writing about you bother you so much? Why are you so angry about what happened last night? Have you never had someone be honest about everything? Is that it? You just think everyone is lying to you when they say they love you. Because it doesn't sound like him when they say it, huh?"

You couldn't think about William. The anxiety was already getting to be too much even without you thinking of how furious he'd be with you.

“Why do you even care about me? You said it when we first met: I’m a shitty cover artist. I’ll never get anywhere. And if you keep telling yourself that I’m someone special, you’re gonna end up in the same place.” You hated hearing the admission spilling from your lips. So many of those words could've easily come from William himself.

“I don’t care about any of that shit. I write about you because you’re fucking fantastic and you deserve to have hundreds of thousands of songs written about you. You deserve fucking church choirs and orchestras and encores and every single fucking crowd cheering for you. Because you’re the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

“Joby, just go.”

He pressed on, firmer than before, “No, I’m not gonna walk away just so you can tell yourself that it was always going to turn out that way. I want you to look into my eyes and tell me that you don’t fucking want me. Then I’ll walk right out that door. I’ll burn every line I’ve ever written about you. I won’t see you. I won’t sing about you. I won’t even think about you." He was close enough that he brought your hand to his chest. Part of you says it's another ploy. Just so you can sink into the heat of his body once again. Even larger than that reach in logic, you realized you could feel his frantic heartbeat. "But if any of that sounds devastating to you too…all you have to do is say it. Whatever you want from me, it’s yours. It’s all been yours the whole time.”

“Joby…I want—" You split in half as soon as you finally gazed into glossy brown eyes again. “Fuck—” You buried your head in your hands and let every mask slip away as tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I want all of it. I want the fucking church choirs and the orchestra and whatever else you can give. I want you to write songs about me until you can’t think of a single thing you could say anymore. And you’re right, I am afraid. I’m afraid because if this falls apart, then I’m fucked. I can’t go from having something this bright...and...intense...to nothing again. I can't do it."

“I won’t let that happen.” He dared to bring you even further into his arms until you stiffened and pulled back.

You maintained his intense eye contact and you spoke clearly, almost issuing a warning, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“What makes you think I can’t keep that promise?”

“Because I know you. Fine—you’ve changed—but at the end of the day, I can’t be another Claire to you.”

Joby was rendered speechless, looking down at his boots and feeling that knife slide a centimeter deeper into his skin. It pinched right next to the outward curve of his spine, barely grazing his heart once more.

“Is that really what you think I’d do to you?”

He became minuscule. Something close to vulnerable.

“Joby, it’s what I know you’d do.”

For once…he got it. Could finally grip the knife and strain it against the grain of his hardened flesh, ripping it free from its tight confinement between his bones. He could deal with the wound later; he's set on getting a good look at the shiny blade, covered in the ruby red waters of his fears, hopes, and regrets. Every single one of his emotional hang ups chipped into the blade, only making it duller; deadlier.

If he had been a weaker man, you could've killed him. And he would've let you. But he wasn't weak, wasn't resigned to hiding away the simple truth behind speeches and songs anymore. If he really tried his best, he could boil the stew of emotions down to its bare bones.

He whispered, “I can't lose this. I can't lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either." You sniffed, "But I don’t want to lose myself. Not again.”

“I know you won’t believe me, but this entire thing is so much different than when I was with Claire. It's why I didn't recognize it. All of this is just as new to me as it is to you.”

“Oh really?” A small, cynical smile peeked through your cracked lips.

Joby figured he'd indulge your satisfaction a little, “Yeah. And it’s fucking overwhelming. Because one second you think you’ve seen it all but then all of the sudden, these other things come in. A-a-and you’ve never seen them before. You want to run away but you don’t want to stay the same." He had to pause to figure out how to end his explanation. Fuck, he'd never been good at these things on the fly. He stammered, "Because w-what if that new thing…is better than you ever could’ve imagined?”

“Joby, don’t dig yourself a deeper hole…” As much as you wanted to hear his sweet words, they already rattled around your head like empty promises.

“Please, just let me finish.” He was silent and thought for a little longer. “You said it was all too intense. And, you know what? I agree. So why can’t we start small? W-w-we can drop…all this…pressure…of being muses for each other and just be with each other. We’ll explore everything, a little bit at a time. And if you ever decide that you don’t want me anymore, I’m gone. And you won’t have to worry about me ever again.” He guided your hand to his cheek.

You rubbed your thumb over the angle of his cheekbone; memorized the way the grooves of your fingertips ran so smoothly over his pale skin. From this angle, he was all soft curves and alcoves you could bury your mouth into. He was tangled wires and chaos and the taste of sweat and leather and cheap soap that made you cringe only a little. Because it was still him. And for now...that was good enough.

“You promise you won’t get sick of me too quickly?” You ventured carefully.

“I promise." He furrowed his brow, chuckled a bit, "To be fair, you’d have to really be trying for me to get sick of you, though.”

You sniffed and returned the modest laugh through your raw throat, “So what would I have to do exactly? Go into as specific of detail as you possibly can.”

“Are you already trying to get rid of me?” He eyed you suspiciously.

“I’m testing you.”

“Then bring it on.”

There was a beat of silence filled with his fond gaze and your bated breath before you burst the bubble, “This doesn’t absolutely terrify you?”

“Nope. Not even a bit."

You shook your head, "Oh, at least you're humble about it."

“Every fucked up choice I’ve made before…I never thought about them. I’m not the most…thoughtful guy. If you couldn’t tell.”

With the roll of your eyes, Joby knew the mood didn't call for him to continue the pitiful joke.

He started again, “But, I just— I want to try.”

Your lips were buttoned closed.

“I’m sorry for playing your song.” He tried a dreaded apology.

Your expression stayed blank and you replied, “Okay.”

“Why does it…bother you?”

You hand dropped to his shoulder and circled the leather there, "It reminds me of how little I actually knew. I had never fallen in love but I thought I knew what it felt like. I thought that one day I'd just find a person who would fill in every single crack.”

"And instead you got me."

You fiddled with the zipper at the edge of his jacket and sighed. "I'm starting to think that's not so bad, though. It’s gonna be a hell of a mess to figure out, though.”

Joby sighed, "What we are right now...doesn't matter. I just want to make something work. I can’t even begin to understand it...but I want to.”

Painfully and slowly, you tugged him down to your level by the collar of his leather jacket. He followed willingly. Lips inches from his own, your breathing was unfettered. Still, he waited for you to set the tempo.

"Then we can help each other figure it out."

You kissed him, softer than any of the previous ones but it sets his belly aflame just as much as ever.

"I fucking love you." He mumbled into the corner of your mouth.

You withdrew, just enough for a puff of hot air to leave you and hit his parted lips. He kept his eyes closed, assuming you were glaring at him.

"Too much?"

"I don't know." you whispered, "But, like I said, we'll figure it out." You still idled, processing the words. Like you were deciding on whether or not you should spoil him any more.

Joby doesn't feel the sting of rejection. Moreso, it's the gleam of opportunity that makes him grab you by the chin and drag you back to his hungry lips; he laid you back on the bed and hovered over you. It's the searing truth that he'd been waiting to have you all to himself for far too long. Now that you're both unattached...what else was there to do but entwine himself with you?

You returned the kiss with a new fervor, one that spoke to the confidence he'd imbibed you with. He makes you feel electric all over again as his arms engulf your frame. His nose prods your cheek as he gets deeper, mixing his tongue into the production. The second his hand drifted up your side, you were a goner.

"You said you'd give me anything." You breathed against his lips.

Just getting to work, he was quiet; dumbstruck and trailing open mouth pecks down your chin to your neck. The zipper of his jacket was pulled down just far enough on your chest that he spotted the offending marks painting your skin. Dragging his tongue along them, he suckled once more, knowing he was only making an even bigger mess of you.

"Anything and everything, princess." he repeated in a husky whisper that vibrated off the column of your throat.

"Then I want you. I'll keep choosing you. Over and over again." You said. He hummed deviously into the spot between your shoulder and your neck. His breath was already hot and needy. Your fingers flew to his hair as he tended to your battered flesh; his handiwork.

You groaned softly but choked midway through. The sound morphed into a strangled gurgle as he cupped one of your tits and gave it a squeeze in his large palm. If he really wanted, he could work all of your knots out just like this. But the more he indulged in his frenzied kissing, the more you wanted all of him.

“Please…” you whined, pulling at the hem of his shirt that was now balled in your fist, begging him to shed the layers separating you from feeling his familiar flushed skin.

Joby chuckled softly, “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He shot you that smug, squinty eyed smirk again that made you groan in annoyance as you undressed his top half.

The years of smoking, drinking, and suffering over his music made him pale and lanky. Joby had never felt more naked with your all too forgiving eyes roaming over his bare chest, like you could somehow absolve him of that pesky old past of his.

In this way, he's a virgin. Completely untouched by the hands of someone who needed him in more ways than the physical.

He swore he could see tears gathering in your lash line when you murmured, “I want to see you. All of you.”

Cautiously, you took his shoulders and urged him to turn so his back was to you. Of course, he did what you wanted him to. Joby sat at the edge of the bed, head hung and shoulders slumped as he waited to feel what you were planning for him.

Blinking rapidly and chest heaving, he couldn't identify the cocktail of emotions that were swirling around in his head. He could pick out flecks of lust and a good amount of excitement. But the aftertaste? It's all bittersweet vulnerability; enough to make him wince when you finally touched him.

It was light. Barely there as you traced the outlines of the tattoos on his back. You began with the angel wings. Followed the curves of each detailed feather. It looked a bit newer, the ink contrasting heavily against his almost anemic skin. Despite the fact that his shoulders hadn't seen much sun in months, there were freckles gracing the highest point of his shoulders. Right underneath the hair that falls over the back of his neck, those tiny dots litter his skin.

In large, decorative letters stretched across his shoulder blades is the word 'trouble'. You giggled, finding it quite ironic since he was becoming part of the solution for you.

"When did you get this one?" You wondered as your finger traced over the letters.

A shiver needled at the tail of his spine.

He was hard. You hadn't even touched him there but he was turned on. He didn't have the heart to stop your tender ministrations along his pale skin. But, oh boy, was he close to flipping you on your back when your lips coasted against the ridges of his shoulders. He tried not to think about those pink, plush pillows all over him; it made him dizzy. The question churned in his overwhelmed head and he struggled more than he should've for the answer.

"A few...years...ago. I-i-it was one of the first—" he inhaled sharply as your teeth grazed over the spot he thought the L would be, "It was the first one I got...after we started the band..."

He had been twenty when his friends sat around him, guzzling beers as they made fun of him, facedown and wincing as the artist worked on the massive piece. He’d gotten a few before: the pinup girl and the crest on his arms. But this one had taken a few sessions to complete. He spent a portion of their earnings from their first few shows on it. And it was entirely worth it.

It was meant to prove his dedication; he was willing to brand his flesh with the label to show that he was committed to being a star.

"What about the snake?" you continued innocently enough until your hand slithered around and ran over the large, inked serpent on the left side of his chest. You must’ve known that his heart was beating out of his chest, right? He practically felt it vibrating in his skull. His blood seemed to be pulsating with want.

He swallowed hard, keeping focus on the next question, "The snake came after...a-all the guys...w-we got snakes together...just for the band."

That had happened two albums in. The second album was an utter failure. The snakes were meant to gather their broken pieces of motivation and tie them all together again. His friends tattoos had been smaller, more hidden. Joby...he simply had to get it imprinted into his skin, directly over his heart.

"You really care about that band, don't you?"

Why were you suddenly so curious? He was ripe for the picking, itching to be plucked from the stem so he could dissolve on your tongue. Yet you took your time. Slow and deliberate with every touch, you traced his tattoos as if they were drawings in your notebook.

"Snake Trouble...it meant everything to me..." Maybe that's what had always been wrong with him; why people just couldn’t do it for him. The music didn't judge. Didn't call him a deadbeat. Didn't make him feel alone. You didn't do those things either. You called him out on his selfishness, on his attitude, on how prone he was to being an asshole. Nonetheless, you embraced him all the same. Just like the music always had.

He was perfectly in tune, just for you. Whimpering so harmoniously as your thumb rubbed over the hardened nipple underneath the tattoo. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes as he greedily waited for more; more of your hands, your mouth, any piece of skin that could quell the way he was aching in his heart and his skinny jeans.

He breathed a sigh of relief when you came back around to his front, lifting one of your legs so you could rest comfortably, straddling his lap. However, you were nowhere near close to being done with teasing him.

Joby was far too pretty for a quick fuck. You had long since reckoned with that idea. You had to know what made him tick. What little things could you do to make his breath hitch in his lungs? To make him really squirm underneath you? You were simply working to reacquaint yourself with the dimension that you'd only gotten glimpses of. He was a song you just had to learn all the notes to. Every string of curses he let out as you eased yourself back and forth on his straining bulge was simply a new lyric to memorize. This, you concluded, was your absolute favorite love song.

He sputtered out a new line, “You’re such a bitch.”

“Yeah? Not as much of an asshole as you are, though.” You taunted him without skipping a beat.

“How am I the asshole?”

Your hand crept up his neck. Thumb rested on his chin, firmly implanted in the patch of facial hair, you skewed him closer to your face, “You sang that little song up there—”

Joby interrupted with a pitiful groan, “I told you I was sorry.”

“Let me finish. When you were singing …I wanted to march up there and kiss you.”

“Seemed like you wanted to punch me.”

You giggled. “Only a little. Mostly, I just wanted you all over me again.”

Joby couldn't take it. He was tense in every sense of the word. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, princess.”

“Isn’t that the point of this?”

“No— I mean— yes…fuck— I need to be inside you.”

You paused then, deliberating his fate. You wouldn't let him down like this, would you?

“You’ve never considered what I’d be willing to give you before, have you?”

Your sincerity could've rendered him speechless, “Huh?”

“You said you’d give me anything. What if I don't want to give you anything? What would you do then?”

“Fuck— I don’t know if I could let you go.”

“Then you’re lucky I love you so much.”

If he wasn't so sick of this game, he'd laugh. But he's far too aware of the irony of this position; the immense control you had over him.

This isn't fair. His critic wept internally.

Oh, but it is. With how much you antagonized her...you deserve worse. And he knew his conscience was right. This was the most delightful sort of torture for him. Because at least now he knew that you would keep him. At least for a little while.

“Jesus fucking Christ…you’re such a fucking bitch.”

For every biting word he uttered, you could hear the sentiment interlacing each syllable. Before you even asked it, you knew your answer. “But I’m yours, right?”

“You're all mine. Allllll mine.”

"Good, then prove it." you challenged him. As quickly as you could bite your lip, he had you pinned back to the mattress.

From that moment, there was no more teasing, no more games, no more acting. For the first time in years, Joby felt alive as he undid his belt. The action was almost muscle memory to him. None of his stumbling hands, only his mind focused entirely on what he was going to give you.

As Joby pushed his cock inside of you, he believed he could do it forever. He could never get tired of exploring this dripping passage, leading him all the way home to your heart. There weren't any clever lines he could use on you now. His head was too thoroughly fucked for him to make any sense anyway.

You were giddy, absolutely gushing with anticipation and willing to take every inch of him. He fucked you relentlessly; you expected nothing less from him. Yet it warmed your heart, hearing none of his smooth dirty talk, only his desperate grunts and groans that came with each thrust. Those were the sounds you had craved.

You dug your heels into his back and forced him deeper until you heard a consistent beat; the slapping of skin on skin. You yelped in time to it. Felt the wires in your belly rub together until the sparks were flying and singeing your skin. Your brain was severed from your body by the heat of pleasure.

Against all odds, you came first. With a beautifully high note leaving your throat, you shuddered and contracted around him as the bridge within you broke. But even after the crescendo, the beat persisted. Though you vaguely muttered for him to keep going—to keep using you—he didn't hesitate. Except he wasn’t going to use you.

Joby did little to soften his approach as he readjusted himself slightly. His hands now gripped your hips and raised your bottom half off the bed so he could keep pounding away. Your numb body shook each time and you held onto the sheets to keep yourself steady.

Your clit throbbed painfully as Joby thrusted right through the jolts of overstimulation that made tears roll down the sides of your face. This was your own encore. Your sweet little song for the road.

He reached one of his sweating, feverish hands forward and gathered a bit of the slick gathering around the base of his cock with two fingers. He used it to rub tight, fast circles around your aching bundle.

Your skin was burning up like you were sitting in hell, but his long fingers playing you expertly convinced you that you were in heaven. You heard the church choir and the orchestra and leading all of them was Joby. His fingers sent you straight into another climax. This time, you finished with a sweet little broken whine, entirely dried up from the performance.

He couldn't think far enough to do anything else until he was spurting in you, nearing the end of the composition. Even then, he wouldn't cease the lazy jerking of his hips. He had to make sure that all of his sticky spend would be lining your insides for days, never mind the tears prickling his eyes. He needed you to feel him in the morning, maybe even forever; however long you'd have him.

Because he'd do anything for you. Even if you intended to leave him the very next day, he would handle it. It would kill him. But he'd manage. He'd find some other way to heal if you'd rather he not be there. He could only hope that you were being as honest as he was with you.

The room was stiflingly hot by the time he finished. For a second, he thought that he was lucky his lungs didn't give out with how much energy he'd dedicated to composing that symphony. But it was for you. Always for you.

Though only a few words had passed through the heat of the moment, that seemed to be enough to describe the moment. It was a tangled bond that was only knotted further as he removed himself from you, yet stayed in place on your chest.

Sick and insane to healed and saved, Joby Taylor kissed the salty tears from your temple. If his throat wasn’t so ragged and raw, he could’ve cheered. Instead he held you like you were the only thing he'd ever need. And deep down inside, he was starting to believe it.

Taglist | @lokis-army-77 @angelicbruhl @pierres-new-spectacles @trelaney @babiezo @alemonyoyo @hollyisaberry @the-odd-devil @hjaolv @theluvcafe

#paul dano #danonation #danocel #for ellen #joby taylor #joby taylor x y/n #joby taylor x you #joby taylor x reader #joby taylor smut #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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noaltbruh · 2 years ago

Note

Hi !! how are you?? I wanted to say that I loved what you wrote about poly!bruabba and I wanted to ask if you could do something similar for poly!fugonara or poly!giomis (what you prefer) if it's not a bother. I really like your posts. Thank you !!! <3

Writing Giomis 'cause I hate Fugonara 😎

And thank youuuu (´,,•ω•,,) I'm glad you enjoy my posts! ♡

Poly!Giomis Headcanons! 🐞💗🔫

You got yourself into...Quite a mess buddy, I gotta tell you. Now, Abbacchio and Bruno are undoubtedly very different from one another, but they're both mature people, whom when faced with adversity, clearly act as the points of reference and mature ones of the group.

Giorno and Mista...Not so much. Don't get the wrong idea, Giorno IS scarily extremely mature for his age, but gun boy...Is a bit more chaotic, I think we can all tell and agree on this.

But that just makes your relationship one complex, yet intriguing and beautiful mess! The three of you might give off complete different auras from one another, but it's your diversities that make your love unique and endearing.

you would live together in every possible scenario, make that canon post part 5, everyone lives au, or in the future. In one way or another, you will always end up sharing the same roof, which is great, right? Seeing each other is so much easier now!

...Yeah uh, don't count too much on that. Of course, living in the same villa does spare you some problems, but there are still others that need to be faced. After all, remember that Giorno is the Don, he's the one in the team with the least free time of all.

Mista would also be a very crucial figure in the organization, but thankfully, he gets more free time than Giorno does! He knows when to take breaks unlike some other members of the squad, so you can count on him to be around quite often.

There is a chance, however, that Giorno will try to work at home instead of his office as much as he can. He knows he can't give the two of you his full attention, but regardless, it's better than nothing. Seeing how hard he's always working, and much effort he puts into the organisation of Passione, Mista and you will probably step in to help him out as much as you can.

Considering that Golden boy is already probably exhausted, it won't take much to convince him. He will still guide the two of you as you take care of paperwork and such, he trusts you, but he just wants to make sure that important documents don't get screwed up. Mista isn't very good with that sort of thing, as for yourself...Well, only you can know.

This does sometimes lead to some cute shenanigans where you trick the Don into resting, claiming that you'll take care of what's left, only to surprise him instead, telling him that you've cooked one of his favorite meals together as a sign of appreciation for how much he does for everyone.

He may be a bit annoyed at first, since this means that there's still work that needs to be done, although a bite of octopus salad and some cuddles should definitely be enough to take his mind off his duties for a while.

If you decide to become part of the gang, Giorno does not approve in the slightest, but he ultimately knows that it's your decision, and he cannot stop you from joining. Mista also knows that it's dangerous, but in reality, the idea of working with you hypes him up a lot. He might actually train you without Giorno knowing about it, so that you can prove yourself to be trust-worthy and strong enough to help with running Passione.

If you do eventually not listen to the Don's warnings, he will try his best to always keep you and the other close to himself. You'll probably work as a secretary for him while stinky boy is his bodyguard, it is only in very extreme situations that Giorno will allow you to step on the battlefield.

You and the blonde are the only ones who can convince the other to take a goddamn shower, saying that you'll stay away from him until he doesn't listen to you. At first, he'd probably be like "Yeah right, like you'd ever do that" but five minutes later he's starting to sweat at the though of you actually maintaining your word lol.

I like to think that Giorno taught the two of you something about gardening, since he's really passionate about it and you can genuinely see how happy he is while describing a type of flower or plant.

Also, for special occasions, he gifts flowers to the two of you. There is always some deep meaning behind the ones he chose, perhaps they reminded him of you for a specific reason, who knows? :)

When the blonde is forced to be away for long, Mista might take some days off to take your mind off things and will start looking for a way to distract you while you wait for your other lover to return.

If he runs out of ideas (which rarely happens to be honest), he might just show you some cool tricks with his gun as to impress you.

Needless to say that GER and the Pistols love you too! While Gold experience requiem will create small animals or flowers for you, and act as someone mature you can rely on, much like its user, the Pistols are basically just a bunch of children whining for your attention, which you find adorable.

When it comes to dates, I think picnics would be perfect! After all, it is a quiet and calm outdoor activity, much to Giorno's happiness, and you get to eat a lot of delicious food, perfect for Mista. The two of you will probably also lightly tease the blonde for his excessive love for sweets, but you secretly think it's adorable.

When it comes to kids...I think it's mostly up to you. The two boys wouldn't mind having a kid with you (or adopting them, for all that matters) although they are not extremely enthusiastic about the matter either. You can guess that Giorno would be a bit more reluctant, since he'd be worried about not being able to be in the child's life enough, and he definitely doesn't want to make the same mistakes his mother did. The other, instead, simply never really thought himself as some who would make an amazing parent.

At the end of the day, however, if a little boy or a little girl becomes part of your lives, the three of you will give then everything you have to make sure that they'll grow in a happy environment, despite the uniqueness of your situation. Giorno will not repeat his parents' errors and will be willing to put any responsibility as a Don for his kid's well-being, while Mista realizes that he's always been a good father even since he's had the pistols.

Let's talk about the gang's reactions now!

Bruno would hug the three of you with a proud expression on his face, stating how much he's happy for you choice and that he will always support you through your relationship. If you ever feel doubtful about your love for one another, or don't how to make up after an argument, he will always have a word of comfort ready and will encourage you to work though your issues, while understanding that it may not be easy.

If you ever leave your child with him, he'll treat them with the same kindness you'd expect from a grandparent.

Abbacchio might not show much of a reaction at first, he will tell you guys that it's your life and it's not up to him to judge who you decide to spend it with, he might even roll his eyes to the sky if you get corny in public, but at the end of the day, he's secretly happy for the three of you and wishes you the best.

Now, Fugo might be a bit more reluctant when it comes to understand or approve the relationship as a whole, since he's used to Mista being a bit of a playboy and not the type to take this kind of thing seriously.

However, since he also deeply respects Giorno and believes he's responsible enough to know what he wants and what he's doing, his doubts will quickly be put aside and he will gladly express his support for your decision.

As I mentioned before, Narancia doesn't really get it at first, but unlike Bruno and Abbacchio, who make an effort to give him more of a concrete explanation, what he gets in this case is "So yeah, surprise, relationships between three people exist, cool right?"

He doesn't ask any further questions and is excited for this discovery. He's also the one that teases the three of you the most at any given chance, but you know he'd willingly stab anyone who dares questioning your love.

Trish would look at Mista, turn in your and Giorno's direction, and simply go "You could have done better"

No but seriously, after some light hearted bickering between them, she actually congratulates the three of you and genuinely believes that you perfectly balance each other's energy out. She is firmly convinced that with one another by your side, you'll manage to bring out the best in all of you.

She's also up for gossiping about them

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agoddamn · 2 years ago

Note

Madara more likable then Sasuke well yeah. Madara not connected to Itachi one of worst characters ever written. Who kishimoto screws over the entire uchiha clan backstory to pander too. Well single handling down playing the trauma of Narutos and the uzumaki clans backstory. With stupid shit like the uchiha were oppressed for being cops so there rebellion was justified. Well also wanking Itachi decision to murder them as traitors. Well pretending he supports Sasuke being a traitor when he doesn’t

That one post about how "I did it for the lulz" legit would be a better motivation for Itachi than what actually happened lmao

It's my position that if a plot could be foiled by the person in question describing what's happening out loud it's a bad plot and we don't need to waste time taking it seriously. "I'm gonna go commit citizen mass murder (which is typically not in my jurisdiction) without asking even one person if these orders are right." Come on, man.

Also, am I the only one who's noticed that there are some people that are super ACAB but when they talk about Naruto...? "Oh, the Uchiha were so oppressed by being cops! That's literally a war crime!" like ok bro I know it's a fucking cartoon, fiction doesn't need to meet the standards of reality...but if we're gonna play the war crimes/genocide card we're actively reaching for the standards of reality and we gotta acknowledge that if you control the police force and you can't manage to accrue any political influence...that's on you, man! LE is possibly the most corruptible profession ever. I cannot comprehend how the Uchiha fucked that up.

We have to start acknowledging the Doylist bad writing aspect at that point, because I cannot read "those poor police were so oppressed" with a straight face and I refuse to take it seriously.

Honestly, every character associated with the bullshit fake Konoha drama suffers heavily for it, including Sarutobi and Danzou (who end up either hate sinks who kick puppies or with their onscreen actions not remotely matching what happened because it was a retcon).

It drives me insane because it's not like we have a dearth of real-life references for corrupt governments! It's not that complicated a plot! We really did not need sheer silliness like Danzou kidnapping and brainwashing clan heirs (what??) or "aight I'm gonna go slit some baby throats at home" as if that can ever be explained by anything but "particularly stupid child," which Naruto as a series limbos through lasers to avoid because it would harsh the shonen buzz.

Just, like...hearing about this shit...

"'The darkness in Konoha'! Oh, this must be about how shinobi villages can never truly ally with one another because it would defeat the point of shinobi, so even as characters desire peace in a general sense they must continue to commit war because that's what their world is built to accommodate and it's one of those tragic paradox things"

"No it's about how one single dude publicly kidnapped and brainwashed and probably molested 4975259 famous kids because he's racist"

#nart opinions

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shotorozu · 4 years ago

Note

Hello!! I hope you're doing well💕 Idk if this been requested before, headcanons about them having a stylish, fashionable s.o? You can choose the characters, tysm!!💖 For BNHA, if possible, please <3

fashionable s/o

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff (x reader)

note(s) : this isn’t that long, compared to most of my headcanons, but i did add four characters! will post more later

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

feels like a trashcan next to you.

in reality, his fashion sense is either top tier stuff, or something you can find at dollar tree

and when i mean that, i mean black sweatpants (that haven’t been washed in 2 days) and a black sweater, with a coffee stain on it to match

his fashion sense is quite lazy and comfortable, but that one outfit he wears on special occasions make up for it.

he smiles when he notices how you never-ever wear the same outfit twice in a row. at some point— assumed that you were also loaded.

and how you always find a way to make an ‘ugly’ outfit suddenly not ugly— he doesn’t know how you exactly do it.

hitoshi could look at an outfit in your closet and think “WHY did they buy this again?” but then in the following second, he could go

“oh, that’s why. they always know how to make it work.” since then, he has learned how to trust your sense in fashion

you could probably help him with his fashion sense, and he wouldn’t mind at all— just help him be consistent with it.

sometimes, he didn’t even know that a certain article of clothing would actually look good on him. the more you know

doesn’t mind it when people gawk at you, because of your very boujee✨sense of style. because, who wouldn’t look at you? they’d be missing out.

in short— he adores how you put so much effort with your clothes, and how you’re also effortlessly stylish

“but i’m dressed like a trashcan next to you,,” he’ll say with a hand resting on his nape, and you’ll reply with

“hitoshi, stop saying that.”

bakugou katsuki

appalled when he shows up to your dorm— and sees you wearing the fanciest pair of pajamas he has ever seen in his entire life.

“what the heck??”

“why, katsuki??”

“WHAT’S WITH THOSE FANCY PAJAMAS??”

his fashion sense is fine,, i mean— his parents are canonically fashion designers. so, you’d expect him to carry their sense of style

yes AND no. have y’all seen the official art of him carrying that large suit case? the fit was lowkey horrendous

rolls his eyes when he sees you wear something stylish to the grocery store— when he’s wearing a black tanktop and some sweatpants.

“seriously— is the outfit really necessary? you stand out too much.”

“is that a good thing?”

“not for me.”

okay but,, it’s not that bad as he says it is. he secretly loves seeing you pull up to dates in those nice clothes. he hasn’t seen you reuse the same outfit two times in a row.

but omg he hates having people gawk at you in public because of your clothes. that’s the part he despises the most

“this is what i didn’t like about your stupid style”

“oh? jealous, are we?”

“shut your trap.”

yes, you’re in fact— attractive. BUT THEY GOTTA KEEP THEIR EYES TO THEMSELVES

katsuki actually loves this part on you— but he grows irritated when his parents suddenly asked him if you were interested in modeling 💀

‘screw you and your fancy pants’ he’ll think to himself, when his parents are fawning over your sense of style.

todoroki shouto

shouto is also a fashion icon himself— so you two get a lot of attention for just,, looking fancy as heck, even in the mundane.

he didn’t really care about what you wore. you had the fashion sense of a white crusty family dog? well,, so what? he doesn’t care as long as you’re comfortable.

shouto noticed how you managed to make a plain piece of fabric a fashion statement— and wanted you to show him your closet

so when you do, he’s fascinated. your brain must be LARGE just thinking about what outfit combination you want to wear every single free day.

but he also thought you were like,, the emma chamberlain of fashion— he thought you created every single fashion trend out there today

when in reality, you just happened to know how to put your own touch on an outfit 💀

“what do you mean you didn’t bring back the brown pants trend?”

“shouto, for the last time— i didn’t do that,,”

he’s not convinced yet.

loves it when he walks into your room, and sees you mumbling to yourself on what you want to wear for a specific day— especially when you’re just wearing a sweater of his, instead of your own

even though you probably have 50 sweaters in there 💀

you need to fix your outfit in public? well, that’s not an issue! he’ll literally do it for you, with no hesitation.

fixes your collar when it gets caught in your bag’s strap, and also makes sure he doesn’t pull anything too tightly.

eventually buys you clothes, when he manages to map out your aesthetic, and what you like— even though anything looks good on you in his opinion

the class can only gawk at the two of you, when the class takes another shopping trip at the mall. i mean,, you both stick out!

“jeez. we look like goodwill mannequins next to them”

midoriya izuku

“that nerd’s fashion sense is lackluster at best.” — bakugou katsuki

i mean,, his fashion sense is simple. he never considered dressing in anything flashy— at least until he started dating you

he dressed in simple, and sometimes corny shirts— when you’re dressed in something he’d see in a luxurious clothing store.

he feels so,, out of place standing next to you. which you reassure that he doesn’t! but he can’t help but think that sometimes,,

because of that, he would be very willing if you decided to give him a clothing makeover!

he gets confused sometimes when he sees your closet like,, “i wonder what would this be paired with,,” but he knows to trust you with that

he’s just,, curious. that’s all.

has this fact written in his notebook— it has nothing to do with your quirk or anything related to that, but he does find it interesting

“Y/N wears a new outfit every weekend. i’ve never seen them wear the same outfit twice in a row! i wonder how that’s possible. i’ve seen their closet! and there’s a lot of things in there, and i just..” blah blah blah— when you came across that page, you were so flattered.

at first, he gets really sheepish when he’s standing next to you in public— because of the stares. but he learns to get used to it

“look, sweetheart! your style is nothing short of anything stylish.” he basically feeds you compliments on the daily— but who wouldn’t??

gets so happy when he sees you wear the clothes he bought you— even if he wasn’t so sure if someone as fashionable as you would wear it,,

to him, it’s overwhelming at first— but he does love how you look! he could talk about you all day and night. even if it annoys some people

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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flamingo-writes · 3 years ago

Text

It's Better When The Sun Goes Down — Nanami x Reader

This is a piece for the Anilysium Server NSFW Collab! Make sure to check the masterlist to see other writer's works! This month's prompt was: "I can't hold back anymore"

I'd like to dedicate this fanfic to one of my dearest and closest friends. I'm not a Nanami simp myself, but they are. And I have fun writing for Nanami, and also I love writing angsty things and flawed characters. Reg, I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoy my more casual writing.

(it's pink bcs youre Chancho)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: Mentions of breakup and heartbreak, alcohol and drug consuption, public sex, ghosting, lots and lots of angst. This does not have a happy ending. This is also non proof read bcs I kinda left it to the last minute I'm sorry, I'll go back and edit it when I am not in a rush dcj nd

Summary: Nanami’s return to the Sorcerer life wasn’t so bad. It could be better if Gojo wasn’t determined to get him back with his ex. As Nanami tries to get on good terms with them, things get out of control, only to end up where it all began.

I made this playlist while writing, in case you wanna listen to it while reading. Preferably listen to it without the shuffle, but you can hear it on shuffle, no biggie.

Nanami had forgotten how painfully unbearable Gojo could be. His return as a Sorcerer had been nothing out of the ordinary for a Sorcerer's standards. Missions here and there, or watching over some of Gojo's students. But God, he had surely stepped out of the line this time.

He couldn't even begin to explain how much he hated his current situation. Fighting by your side for the first time in years felt like rubbing hot oil on an open wound. The uncomfortable ignoring the elephant in the room between you two, as you two tracked and fought what felt like a million Curses.

When the adrenaline was at its peak, it felt almost nostalgic; though he'd then remembered everything else and immediately made his own reality bitter and awkward. Overshadowed by the advantage of years of experience ahead of him made him resent you even more. He knew it was childish and pointless to keep remembering everything that happened between you two, but that bittersweet memory would most likely keep him at bay.

You were still strong, witty, fearless, reckless and quick to act and defend yourself. The way you moved looked more swiftly and coordinated than you did back in your student days. Almost as if you were a professional dancer. He hated every bit of it. He couldn’t stop looking at you, thinking about you, and the possibilities of what you two would have become.

After the mission was over, no words were exchanged between you two. Aside from the: "Are you alright?" He told you as you simply gave him a thumbs up as you caught your breath drenched in sweat. An entire ride in an uncomfortable silence, until he reached the school and you got out of the car.

"Thanks. You did a great job. Keep it up" You said. Cold, and straight to the point. Closing his car door before he could reply. And soon, you were gone.

As Nanami tried to get his mind off the mission, Gojo made it difficult. He called him to ask for the details of the mission. He seemed amused and intrigued, as clearly you hadn't told him shit. And honestly, he could understand why. Gojo was meddling on things that weren’t his business, and things that had died a long time ago.

"Why are you interrogating me, Gojo?" He asked as he pressed hisnfingers on the bridge of his nose. "Ask your underling…"

"Because that jerk left for the bar as soon as they arrived" He explained. "And I know better than to annoy a drunk [Name], It took me a while but...I finally learned my lesson" He chuckled. “I knew they could hit hard, but damn, I had a big ass bruise…” Nanami could almost hear his stupid grin.

"You make it sound like it's a recurrent event" Nanami pointed out, slightly surprised as he didn't know you were a drinker.

"Oh, Nanami-kun, you really know nothing huh?" Gojo said, smiling widely as he had managed to manipulate Nanami into asking.

"Know what?" Nanami hissed as he now swore he could hear Nanami creepily grinning at his phone.

"No, nothing!” Gojo said as if it were nothing; trying and succeeding at peeking at Nanami’s curiosity “I'm not gonna talk over depressing things on the phone. Gotta go, bye! Kith kith, Kento-kun" Gojo sang and hung up, as he smirked, proud of his little mischief. He sighed deeply as he stretched in his bed. "Soon, those two will be back together" he smirked to himself.

Nanami hissed a curse under his breath as he locked his phone and threw it on his bed and went to the kitchen. If he had understood well, Gojo had just hinted at a possible drinking problem. He tried shaking his mind off of it. You couldn't, could you? You weren’t a drinker...You weren’t the last time he saw you. You were able to party and have fun without having to intoxicate yourself.

You were wild, cheerful, unpredictable. Everything he was not. And that’s what had made him fall in love with you back in your school days. You were so laid back, he could feel it permeating into him when you two hung out. The few times he’d broken rules was because you’d been the bad influence, however, you somehow managed to get away with it, and leave him with some distant memory in which he felt actually glad to be alive. He usually felt like he was walking on a cloud stuck in time, being present and enjoying the little things that made his everyday memories.

He’d really screwed up after breaking up with you...if he could call that a breakup... His life took a dramatic turn. And then, he turned his back to this world, and got immersed in the gray life the average man in Japan had. Away from what he's familiar with, away from his friends, away from you.

And now, apparently, you had a drinking habit. He wondered if he had caused it, or if he was one of the reasons behind it. The guilt started creeping in. The same guilt and regret he felt after ghosting on you. Not being able to bring himself to properly end things with you.

The guilt he’d managed to swipe under the rug for so many years creeped back out, and followed him around as the afternoon went by. After having a shower, changing into more comfortable clothes and in a lame attempt to cook dinner, he decided to test his luck. He put on a dark button down shirt and decided to go to the bar closest to the School. He felt the naive hope to find you there. However, if you had an actual problem, then his chances to see you there were higher.

Such was his surprise to find you there, trying to get rid of some insistent guy who kept talking to you despite your very obvious lack of interest. Before you could spot him, he watched you aggressively turn to the guy and talk to him in a rather rude tone. Sounding almost like a moody sailor as the guy’s face soon was washed with horror and disgust and walked away. As you turned your face back to your drink, your eyes scanned the bar, finally spotting him.

“Oh god” You whined as you pulled the glass to your lips. “It’s too early to be this drunk…” You hissed.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked, pointing at the chair in front of you.

“Tell Gojo to go fuck himself…” You snapped at him as you stood up and stumbled your way to the bar asking for a refill. Nanami looked at you, feeling slightly sorry for your tipsy state, as he’d never seen you like that. And he knew being mad and drunk was never a good combination. As you turned around with your glass and made your way back to your table, you gave him a slightly repulsed smile. “You’re still here…”

“Gojo didn’t send me here, if that’s what you’re thinking” He replied.

“He might as well have manipulated you into doing so, has that crossed your mind?” You said with a sassy tone as you sat back down. “Why are you still standin’?”

Nanami took that as an invitation as he ignored your last comment, trying to refuse the idea that Gojo had manipulated him.

“Rough day, huh?” He said as you nodded and stared at your drink.

“Look, Kento. I’m glad that you’re back. I really am. You’re strong, and you’re smart…” You began. “But I’m gonna cut the chase, I’m kinda annoyed too. Ever since you got back, Gojo has been sticking his snobby nose into my business” You explained. “Many of the missions he sends you in, I’m supposed to be there as well, but manage to get busy by then and not go”

“So you’re actively avoiding me?”

“Yes” You replied bluntly. “Mostly because Gojo is trying very hard to bring us back together. But no, I learned my lesson the first time” You said taking a sip to your scotch, feeling it smoothly sliding down your throat, no longer feeling the burn from the alcohol.

“I haven’t apologized for that…” Nanami began.

“Don’t” You interrupted him. “It’s better this way”

“Are you sure? Because you still seem to have an issue with it…” Nanami said, managing to read you like an open book like he always did. He still had that ability.

You glared at him, angrily as you opened your mouth to snap back at him, but your mind was foggy and a big portion of your brain was focused on the little details surrounding him. His black shirt, the first buttons undone. His thick wrists, one of them hiding underneath a fancy looking watch, his blond hair pushed back, his sharp features...And god, his smell. The smell of his cologne luring you in like a fly to honey. Since any words made it to your mouth, your next step was to take another sip.

“You’re drinking too fast” He pointed out.

“None of your business” You said standing up and taking your wallet out and leaving a few bills on the tale. “I’m out” You said coldly and walked out of the bar.

Nanami sighed, frustrated that he hadn’t managed to get anything out of interaction. Aside from the pretty clear fact that you disliked him. However, he didn’t think of the possibility of you resenting him so much because you still had feelings for him.

As you walked out of the bar, the chilly wind hit the back of your neck, making you shiver. You cursed, knowing it was going to make you feel drunker faster. You made your way to the school with long steps, trying to make it to your dorm before your last drink made it to your head. Despite the cold wind, the hot tears in your eyes in a way kept your face warm. As you tried to keep yourself from crying, you heard steps behind you.

“Wait” You heard Nanami’s voice calling behind you as you stopped on command, against your own will. You swallowed the lump on your throat and managed to keep the tears still in your eyes, as you refused to look at

him. “At least let me walk you home. You can’t walk on your own like this…”

“Oh, so now you care?” You said turning around and looking at him, giving him a smug smile. “You’ve changed” You scoffed bitterly.

“Please” He said, knowing better than trying to argue with you.

Your stare on him softened, as something within you urged you to say yes. To have more time with Nanami and maybe cling to the bittersweet memories you were constantly reliving since his return.

“Fine” You said, very much to his surprise. He smiled and walked closer to you with the gentle smile that had been haunting your dreams as of lately.

“C’mon. My car is not far from here…”

You stopped coldly as he mentioned a car. Taking a second look at him, you wondered how much he’d changed. He’d become an adult through and through, hadn’t he? While you were still a mess...Or so you thought. To Nanami’s eyes, you were a far better sorcerer and warrior than him. And he envied you for it.

“Are you actually going to take me to the school?” You asked, suddenly growing suspicious of him, as you’d had plenty of experiences with strangers on the street and knew better than going into someone’s car in a drunken state.

Not that you didn’t trust Nanami. You didn’t trust yourself drunk.

“I was actually thinking of taking you somewhere for dinner and then to the school” He said.

“Not hungry”

“No, but you’re drunk. It’ll sober you up, and tomorrow morning you’ll thank me when you wake up without a hangover” He said as he walked towards his car.

“I don’t have any more money on me” You lied, looking for an excuse to avoid spending any more than necessary with him.

“I didn’t ask you if you have money” He said boldly as he managed to make you smirk for the first time since his return.

“Smooth, Nanami. You’ve grown” You said as you followed him.

The walk to his car felt like your chest burnt far more than the alcohol ever did. It felt bitter, it hurt and was nauseating. Was it really it, or was it the alcohol finally catching up with you? Like flashes of instant memories being erased from your memory, the drive to a restaurant felt like a poorly edited foreign film. The car felt like some intense themed park ride as you felt dizzy with the alcohol whispering everything you missed about him. It was gross and it was sickening.

The Ramen sign on the outside on itself managed to sober you up a little by taking your mind off Nanami. As you followed him, clumsily standing on your feet, you sat on one of the tables and tried to make sense of the dancing letters in the menu. More flashes of memories were taken off your head, as you wondered what was happening and how drunk were you for you to start blacking out.

“Not good…” you muttered under your breath.

“Did you say something?” Nanami asked.

“No. Nothing”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m not”

“You’ll feel better in a bit. Don’t worry…” He said softly as he sipped from a soda you didn’t know he had. When had he ordered it? You looked in front of you to the nice surprise that you had one too despite not knowing how or when. “I ordered some ramen for you. Something spicy...It’ll sober you up faster”

You chuckled as you looked at him.

“And how do you know that?” You asked with a cheeky tone as he smiled softly.

“Went drinking a lot with friends from work” He said. “I learned a few things here and there”

More brief black outs kept lazily painting a rather miserable painting in your memory. As you ate your ramen, you found yourself relaxing more and more. Was it the hot spicy broth? In the beginning, the balck outs weren’t getting any less frequent, however, as the night went by, you found yourself sobering up like he said. Soon, the black outs were gone, however you were still somehow locked in a haze. Although it made sense. The amount of booze as well as the short time, it was going to take a lot more than just one hot bowl of spicy ramen to get you back to a sober state.

The conversation kept flowing comfortably as both of you ate. It was reminiscent of the old days, nostalgic and somehow morbid. As the both of you tried to grasp at the old days when your worries were limited to school work. Catching up like old friends who hadn't seen each other, as if you didn’t have hard feelings for each other.

After having finished your food, Nanami paid for both of your meals and went back out into the cold night. The sky black, stars hidden by the streetlights as you made it to his car and finally noticed the silver color in it.

As he drove back to the school, you noticed he took a small detour, instantly setting alarms in your head.

“Where are we going?” You asked, your voice considerably serious as he noticed the change in tone from the pleasant talk they were having in the restaurant.

“There’s somewhere I’d like to go…” He said as he briefly looked at you and gave you a tender smile.

That smile made your heart uncomfortably skip a beat as you hated the effect he still had on you. You didn’t dare to ask any further as you slowly recognized the route he was taking. As he slowly took one of the roads towards the edge of the city close to the coast line. He stopped in a rather deserted place, as he got off the road and stopped the car.

Despite the lack of light, aside from the few streetlights, you knew exactly where you were. A whole in your chest opened dramatically as you felt your eyes tear up and happy memories attached to the location flooded your mind.

“Kento…” You said chuckling bitterly.

“When I said I wanted to apologize, I meant it…” He said as you clenched your jaw and looked out your window, avoiding his stare.

“And I told you I didn’t want to talk about it…”

“You’re still upset about it, I get it. And I don’t blame you” He began as he felt his heart beating hard in his chest. “Look at me, please”

You wanted to say something to him. But you knew you would break down crying as soon as you opened your mouth. You took a deep breath and without saying anything you looked at him. His dark brown eyes gazing into yours, as he was looking at you with a rather pained stare.

“You remember this place, don’t you?” He asked.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clicked your seatbelt, getting it off.

“I’m done” You said dryly as you opened the door and got out of the car.

“No, [Name]. Please, wait” He said as he mirrored your movements and excited the car walking around it.

“Of fuckign course I know where I am, Kento” You barked as you walked away approaching the door. “I know where I lost my fucking virginity, okay?” You barked as you stopped coldly and looked at him, tears finally streaming off your face. “Look, I’ll make us a favour and summarize this conversation. Yes, you’re a fucking asshole for just taking off one day and completely disappearing. Yes, I’m still mad about it. No, I won’t take your apology. No, I don’t care about whatever shitty excuse you have for me to listen to you. You bringing me here out of all places isn’t going to change shit…” You spat all in one breath as you stopped and took a deep breath.

“I loved you, Kento. I really did. And it hurt to have you just dissipate like you were a hallucination or something...You were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything! And one day I lost all of that. You ruined sex for me!” You yelled angrily. “I could never hold, kiss or sleep with anyone, because at some point I’d see your stupid face, and then be incredibly underwhelmed because I would not enjoy sex. I can’t feel anything anymore, Kento...The only way I can actually enjoy those things is by getting drunk or high” You admitted. “I can’t walk into bookstores, nor eat sandwiches or diet coke, nor drink tea because all those things remind me of you. And yes, it’s lame that all these years later I still care about those things. And this is why I can’t forgive you” You cried, as your voice shook.

Nanami’s heart broke little by little at each one of your words. He knew he’d screwed up and had hurt you deeply. But he wasn’t aware of the actual impact. He clenched his jaw as he felt his chest tight and a lump on his throat. Now the drinking problem made sense. Gojo had painted it like you were an alcoholic, but it wasn’t exactly the case. So you’d gone to the bar to get it off with some stranger, probably pretending it was him.

The dizzying pain and weight of his mistakes blinded him for a second as he walked towards you as you kept bitterly complaining. As you tried to walk away, you made a very poor effort as he caught up with you and cupped your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him and shutting you up by pressing his lips against you.

The sudden surprise made your heart stop. Your mind turning numb and blank at once as you struggled to bring yourself to push him away. However, truth be told, you didn't want to push him away. The poor attempt to push him away was more than obvious. The strong fighter you were, barely making any physical effort. Nanami's hands wrapped around your back and pulled you close, squeezing you against him as he sighed into the kiss.

Finally kissing him back, you locked your lips against his desperately, eager to taste the lips you've been dreading in your dreams. Clinging to him like he was going to disappear again, a soft whimper escaped your mouth. Your chest pressing against him as he felt his own world getting blurry.

He broke the kiss pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how much I missed you” He whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I…” You stuttered, the words tasting bitter before they even made it to your mouth. “Fuck, I want you, Kento” You growled as he pulled you in, kissing you hungrily again.

His hands posessively clinging to you as he slowly guided you back to the car. One step at the time as you both melted in a hungry sour kiss. As you ran out of breath, you pulled away, gasping for air as you gripped his collar in your hands.

“I can’t hold back anymore” You said as you pulled away and grabbed his hand, walking back to his car.

Your words unleashed a shiver down his spine as his heart skipped a beat and raced like crazy, as his pants started feeling tighter on his crotch. He chuckled softly as he realized his own judgement seemed to have disappeared with that first kiss. And before you could even make it to his car, he gripped your hips and spun you around as he bumped his forehead against yours.

“I can’t either” He admitted as he guided you to the car’s hood and pulled you over it. Ass you sat on the warm hood, he got between your legs and you wasted no time wrapping them around his waist. He grunted softly feeling your crotch against his as you pulled him closer to seal your lips together.

As you soon were absorbed by the dizziness of your rising heat, his hand went to your bare thighs as he slowly caressed your skin, going up and lifting your skirt up in the process. A soft moan slid into his mouth as he gripped your ass softly and squeezed it. The way your skin got covered in goosebumps and how you jerked your hips made him moan in response.

It felt good, and intoxicating. The driving desire burning his insides. The feeling of desiring to taste you all over and have you shaking underneath him. God, he’d missed that particular rush of adrenaline. His body reacting to the deeply buried memories now loose. He felt like he was in the best high he’d experienced. Lightheadedness and presence in the moment, he hadn’t felt this alive in so long.

Your hands were slowly undoing his buttoned shirt and were quick to explore his warm skin. He pulled away from the kiss, gasping as he looked at you. Your devilish smile matching your hungry stare. You leaned forward kissing his neck, nibbling on his skin every now and then. His hand gripped your hair tightly, pulling it lightly, making you look up at him as he stared at you.

He leaned forward, kissing you once more, this time a lot more slow and a lot more tender. It was sweet and it was slow and it took you by surprise. You felt his sweet kiss begging you, still holding on to the feelings you both decided to drown unsuccessfully. It almost hurt. It was the kind of kiss that told you how much you missed and needed each other. How much you regretted the mistakes you’ve done.

As you melted against his lips, his hands slowly slid your panties off. You helped him lifting your hips a little but as you giggled against his lips.

“Eager?” You said with a playful smirk.

“You have no idea” He replied as he took off your panties and shoved them in his back pocket.

His hand made it back to your thigh, slowly going up until he palmed your hot sex. Stealing a gasp out of your mouth, he teasingly ran one of his fingers through your dripping slit, making him smile satisfied.

“I’m not the only one, huh?” He said as you looked at him with lustful eyes.

You took his glasses off and set them aside. You were about to go back to kissing his neck when he slid one finger inside of you effortlessly. A rather loud moan escaped your lips as you shut your eyes closed feeling your entire body tingle in a way you hadn’t felt in years. You smiled satisfied as you continued kissing his neck. Slowly, he got another finger inside. The delicious stretch of his second finger prompting you to bite his neck softly making him growl your name softly. His fingers explored the whole he knew so well, as he found your sweet spot almost by muscle memory. More moans came out of your throat sounding like music to his ears.

“Fuck, Kento” You hissed as you took off your top, not caring that you were outdoors and by the road. Up to this point, you were so pent up, you simply craved him like you’d never craved anything before.

Nanami wasted no time and kissed your neck, going down to your neck, gently biting your skin every now and then. Sucking delicately on your skin, leaving marks that wouldn’t last long. He pulle dhis fingers out of you, clinging to your body desperately. As you laid on the car’s hood, you devoured him with your lustful eyes, begging him to get on top of you. Wearing just your skirt by this point, Nanami groaned at the plain sight of you.

He undid his belt and his pants. Your hands playfully teasing your own body in an attempt to drive him crazier and crazier. He cursed under his breath as he couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled his painfully hard erection out of his pants. You watched hi, intrigued, stretching your hands towards him, gently gripping his dick. His breath hitched and you smiled proudly.

Nanami leaned over the car hood, slowly getting on top of you, his shaft resting on your belly as he looked at how much deep could he go inside of you. His tip almost reaching you belly button, as the idea alone made a shiver run down his spine.

"Please, Kento" you gasped, need dripping from your voice as you caressed his dick

He growled softly as he pulled away softly, aligning against your entrance and slowly going in. You gasped, pushing your head back and pressing your hips against his making him go deeper.

Hissing your name, he jerked his hips, his tip.kissing your cervix as sudden rush of pain jolted through your body, followed by pleasure. You dug your nails in his shoulders as he thrusted back and forth, hitting all the right spots. The sound of his gasps and grunts hypnotizing as you got wetter by the second. His length coated in your juices, echoing in lewd wet noises.

He was rough. He usually was. Back in student days, he was particularly rough. As quiet and collected as he seemed, he sure got his stress out if his body through wild sex.

Relentlessly pushing against you, stretching you in such a delicious way only he knew how. Strong and aggressive movements as your walls swallowed him whole every time, breathless moans escaping your lips with every push. The cool wind kissing your skin, only enhancing his warmth.

As you felt your orgasm progressively approaching, the realization of how addicted you were to him hit you. He was everything you desired. And it was wrong. Before the feeling of uneasiness started to sink in, a sudden electric rush ran through your body. Painfully and soothing, as you tightly clenched around himbsoon numbed your mind.

As you came around him, your walls sucked him in tightly, as he was right over the brink, your velvet flesh pushed him off the edge. He didn't have time to pull out. And honestly, he didn't want to pull out. The way your walls milked him felt delicious. As he rode you through your orgasm, filling you up as his head felt dizzy and the world was spinning faster than usual. His hot seed coating your insides, as you shut your eyes closed, feeling the very last of your orgasm fading away.

He pressed his forehead against yours. Loud pants echoing.

However, the world didn't quite return to its regular focus.

The rest of the night went by in a fuzzy hot mess of events. You returned to his apartment and kept feasting on each other, making up for the lost time. Both of you incredibly starved and needy, you desperately went at it over and over again. It was a rather long night. As you feared, no one made you feel as he did. All of him was addicting. His smell, his voice, his warmth, his skin...It didn’t matter how many strangers you fucked, or how drunk or high you were, he felt just right. He made you cum so easily, it seemed ridiculous everyone else couldn’t.

But you knew it was far more than that.

You were still deeply in love with him. No wonder why he had that effect on you. Just hearing his breathlessly gasp was enough to have you soaking wet and under his mercy. Between sweet kisses, fake promises and sweaty sex, he quite literally fucked you to oblivion. Until either of you could take it any longer and you two fell asleep in each other’s arms. It had been a long tiring night, as you knew many of your muscles were gonna be sore the next day. Your chest painted in red and blue bruises.

It was possibly one of the best night sleeps he’d had. In such a long time. The uncomfortable hole in his chest didn’t feel so wide now. Just like you, he didn’t know how much he actually needed you until now. His regrets, his guilt, the thoughts haunting him on how much of a jerk he’d been when he simply took off...All those feelings went away for a night. As he tasted the wonders of the universe under your skin. Feeling ecstatic and euphoric for the first time in years. However, nothing could’ve prepared Nanami for what he was about to experience when he woke up.

“What the hell is this?” Gojo asked as he waved around the folder you’d left a few hours earlier in the Headmaster’s office.

“Why the fuck do you care?” You said as you grabbed it, ripping it off his hands.

“You’re seriously leaving for Kyoto?” He whined.

“So my transfer was accepted? Great!” You said sarcastically as you opened the folder and saw the Headmaster’s seal at the bottom.

“What about Nanami-kun?” Gojo replied as the very last string of your patience snapped.

“Oh, fuck you, Gojo! You tried to force us back together, but it’s not going to happen” You snapped. “I’m done. I’m done with him, and I’m done with you sticking your nose in my business”

“Do you really think that running away will solve anything? You’ll still be depressed as hell”

“The less I know about him, the better” You said as you turned around, hot tears blurring your sight as you headed with long steps towards your room. “I don’t trust myself around him…” You whispered. “He’s my weakness Gojo, I can’t let that happen…” You said coldly.

You’d left that morning very early, before Nanami woke up. And you left leaving no trace of you ever being there. Unintentionally doing the same he did. It was unintentional because you hadn’t done it out of spite. Your thought process had been simply. You preferred to not have that conversation and simply leave without him noticing. You had had the exact same thought process Nanami had had all those years ago.

You didn’t waste time and soon started packing your things to leave for Kyoto right away.

#jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami kento imagines #nanami x reader #nanami angst #server collab

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andilovetowrite · 4 years ago

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Punch to the Heart (Part 1)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After repeatedly blowing you off on plans, events and trips, you have finally had enough. But Peter soon regrets it as he sees the harsh reality of almost losing his best friend.

Based on a request you can find here!

Warnings- Crying and a bit of flinching. This is probably my most angsty fic yet, with sprinkles of fluff here and there :)

Here is my Masterlist in case you wanna find more of my work :)

Part 2

“No, I can’t make it.”

“Sorry, I gotta hang out with MJ.”

“Oh, MJ wants to go out for the evening.”

“Of course I can’t come for movie night, MJ and I are going on a date.”

“Hey Pete, I got the snacks here, come on in”, you said, excited to be spending time with your best friend for the first time in weeks.

“Uh, so I can’t stay for movie night. I gotta pick up MJ and we are heading to her house for the night.”

As he said that, you could feel your heart sinking, stomach curling. Peter never used to bail on your plans, let alone not come to movie nights. Before he started dating MJ and fought Mysterio, you two were inseparable. Always joined at the hip. Whether it was Spiderman duties or simple day to day things, you two would always do it together. Through thick and thin.

That was your motto. You and Peter made it when you were young. But perhaps, you could get through thick and thin, but not through MJ…

“What do you mean? We have been planning this for more than a month. Or well, I have”, you said bitterly, rolling your eyes.

“Well, can’t we just reschedule or something. MJ wants me there tonight.”

You scoffed, looking down. “Peter, I’m your best friend and we haven’t hung out in a month. Can’t you just postpone your plans with MJ?”

He sighed, looking annoyed. “Okay, I can’t just bail on MJ!”

“But you have no problem turning me down every time….”

Peter chuckled humourlessly, running his hand through his hair. “But she is my GIRLFRIEND Y/N!”

“So that’s just an excuse now?” you asked, taking a step back when he yelled.

“Look, it’s not my fault that I want to spend time with my girlfriend. So stop always trying to get attention, and for gods sakes, stop being so fucking clingy!” Peter shouted, throwing his arm back. You stood still, stunned. Tears started welling up in your eyes as you looked down. You wanted to say something, a backhand comment, something to redeem your dignity, but all you let out was a choked sob. Suddenly, Peter looked up, recognition on his face as he reached out to you. But just as he was going to touch you, you flinched, stepping further away from him.

Hurt burst through his face when he saw what you were doing. “Y/N, I didn’t mean-”

“Just go, Peter. You already know how to…” you whispered, arms wrapping around your frame. You felt a fresh batch of tears forming, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. So you turned around, grabbed the door handle, and turned to see him, heartbreaking in two as you saw the flowers he had held behind his back for MJ.

“I’ll stop being a clingy best friend. Hell, I’ll just stop being a best friend.” And with that, you walked in, shutting the door behind you before crumbling to the ground. The smell of fresh sandwiches was in the air, the kind from Delmar. You knew Peter liked them, so you had gone and bought some for your movie night. But now, the sight of them made you curl up as you cried softly into your arms.

A part of you hoped Peter would come back, knock on the window and say that he had dumped MJ and was ready to spend time with you. Alas, life doesn’t always go the way you hoped it would, since, within minutes, you heard the familiar WHAP of his web. That was the first night in years that you cried yourself to sleep….

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“Ugh”, you mumbled as your eyes tried to adjust to the bright yellow light streaming in through the window. “Mom, close it!”

“Nope, you have to get up! This pity party of yours has been going on for too long. You’ve stayed in bed the entire weekend. You have to go to school today!” Your mom stood up, yanking your cover out of your bed. She sighed, looking at your bedridden head and dark circles. “How late did you stay up till?”

You sighed, leaving the warm embrace of your bed. “Just till one”

Your mom clasped your shoulder, pulling you up gently. “Okay I don’t know what happened, but I have a plate of bacon and egg on the table. Go have a shower and then get some breakfast.” She ruffled your hair. “A full stomach makes a happy person” She winked at you before walking out of your room.

You pulled yourself out of bed and into the bathroom, shedding your clothes. Stepping under the war water, you let your worries flow away with the mascara marks that were stuck on your face. Running your fingers through your tangled hair, you promised yourself Peter wouldn’t see you break down today. Drying off, you walked out of the room, dressed in some of your comfortable clothes. Quickly eating your breakfast, you left for school, wanting to get there before everyone else arrived. You ran up the stairs, going straight to the library. You didn’t have a busy day, actually, you had only 2 classes today but quite a bit of work to do… Since you had something else to do on the weekend.

Tossing your books down, you grabbed a chair, getting your notebook out to start writing. Time passed as you did your work, your hand aching but you didn’t care. For some reason, you couldn’t immerse yourself in you studies.

As if on cue, your “reason” walked through the door, heading straight for your table. You acted as if you couldn’t see him, staring down at your scribbles. Hearing his feet get closer, you tense up, breathing heavily.

“Your heartbeat is getting faster, so it’s kinda useless trying to avoid me…”, Peter said, towering over you. Furrowing your eyebrows, you glared up at him, not saying a word, worried about what might come out of your mouth. Peter sighed, sitting down. You looked at him warily. He didn’t say anything else, just continued to stay quiet and stare at his lap.

Okay, you thought, starting to pack up your things, If he doesn’t want to talk, then neither should I.

You stood up, an as if Peter saw you for the first time, he reached out grabbing your wrist, making you flinch back. “Sorry”, he muttered, retracting his arm. “Sorry”, he said again, looking you in the eye. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been spending time with you, and blowing you off everytime. I just- uh, MJ is my first girlfriend. Ever. And I just don’t want to screw this up.”

You scoffed at his words, looking away. “So you would rather screw up a friendship of 8 years than say no to your girlfriend of two months?”

Peter shook his head, trying to find the right words. “I-I don’t want to stop spending time with you just because MJ is now part of my life. Plus, I miss our movie nights…”

You contemplated it, staring at Peter’s soft puppy eyes he was giving you.

“Okay, fine. It’s okay, I know I can be clingy sometimes, and I’m sorry-”

“You’re not clingy! At all. I’m sorry I said that.”, Peter said hurriedly.

“I just don’t want to lose my best friend Pete. Even when we went to Europe you ignored me. And I know it was because of Beck, but after that, it was always MJ this or MJ that!”

Peter hung his head down, not responding. You sighed again, staring at him. “It’s fine Peter. Let’s just try and make time, alright?”

Peter nodded, smiling hesitantly at you before opening his arms. Smiling back at him, you hugged him, feeling the warmth of his body for the first time in days. You felt him nuzzle his head into your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin, leaving a tingling sensation. Without even thinking about it, you whispered softly into his shirt. “I love you Peter Parker.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you tensed up, but Peter didn’t respond. You relaxed, as he probably didn’t hear it.

You could’ve stayed with Peter for hours, but then his phone started ringing loudly, He let go, sheepishly smiling at the annoyed librarian. Looking at his screen, you saw a picture of his and MJ, with her kissing his cheek, way too close to his mouth. Turning away, you tried to concentrate on anything else but Peter’s voice as he picked up the phone, words of love and admiration flowing out.

Hearing what MJ was saying, you leaned closer. “Where are you Peter? It’s been 15 min.”

Peter didn’t say anything for a moment, looking back at you, which made you look away. “I’m just doing something. I’ll be right there…”

He turned around to you, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I gotta go. I’ll see you later though, right?”

Nodding at him, you pulled your books out again, and watched him walk out quickly, a bounce in his step. You hoped you would see him later, that he would keep his promise of spending time with you, that he would stand up to MJ and tell her that he wanted to hang out with you. But for the second time in a few days, you were wrong. So bloody wrong. And this broken promise would definitely be a punch to the heart…

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Ooh, I really liked this one! Anyway, thank you for reading this, and the next part will be out later this week, possibly on Friday or Saturday. If you want to be tagged in the next part of the following fics, please just respond to this one telling me that. Until next time👋👋

Tag List: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326

#peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #angst #fluff #smut #crying #reader angst #mj #peter parker x mj #michelle jones

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fiveisnumber1 · 4 years ago

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Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31

_________________________

Pt 31 - Commission Issues

As you zoned out looking at the sky and wondering about the possibilities of what would come next you hear Luther call out behind you,

"Five!"

Coming back to reality you turn towards the sound and watch as Luther follows Five back into the apartment building. You decide to follow them as well but not before looking at Klaus and Ben on the ground and say,

"Whatever that was, I'm going to ignore it but you two need to figure out where the others went while I help Five with whatever idea he has next, okay?"

"Uhh...sure" Klaus groans as he stands up

"Fine, we will," Ben adds

You nod your head and turn around rushing to follow the two boys who were heading inside the building. As you followed them up the staircase you could hear Luther exclaim,

"Hey! Five, doomsday is still coming. We gotta think of a new plan."

"Don't you get it, Luther? It's over, all right? We're already dead." Five complains

"Then where are you going?" Luther questions

"I'm going to do the unthinkable." Five replies frustratedly "The hell is that supposed to mean?" Luther follows up

As the three of you enter the apartment you hear Five mumble to himself, "I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this."

With that, he enters what used to be Elliott's bedroom and shuts and locks the door behind him. Luther leans up against it knocking and yelling, "Come to what, Five? Five! Come to what? Five!"

Luther bangs on the door calling out Five's name over and over again to no response. You step next to Luther and when he looks down at you, you say,

"Let me talk to him."

Luther nods at you knowing that you were probably the best option to talk to him. If anybody was going to calm down and reason with him, it was going to be you. As Luther walks away to the living room portion of the apartment, you phase through the bedroom door. Once you enter, you watch as Five paces back and forth complaining to himself,

"All we had to do was get together on time. That was it! those idiots screw everything up."

"Five..." You say

"I do everything to try and save us from impending doom and I can't even rely on them for the simplest of tasks!" He continues to complain

"Five." You try again

"I bet they'll blame it all on me again too!"

"Five!" You call out grabbing his hand

Five stops pacing and his head snaps towards you.

"What?!" He snapped

You were taken aback by his outburst, your eyes going wide at the harsh tone of his voice. You could see the frustration on his face and the anger in his eyes. You knew deep down that he was just worried, but sometimes his emotions didn't come easy and it hurt you to see him so upset.

Five was done with the constant threat of the apocalypse. With not being listened to and with plan after plan to get everyone home failing. He wanted to run away from it all but then he saw the shocked look on your face, and his mind flashed back to all those years ago when you both were children. He recalled the anger and frustration he felt at his father not listening to him and not believing in his ability to time travel. The rage that burned inside him because things had not gone the way he wanted. And he remembered the way you held onto him and the shocked look on your face as he took his anger out on you. Those moments, that day, burned themselves into his mind and plagued him through his whole life. He had always regretted that day, and probably always would but there was no way he was going to make the same mistake twice. Five's head looked down shamefully as he quietly apologized,

"I'm sorry..."

Letting go of his hand you take a step forward and gently cradle his face in your hands, tilting his head up slightly so he can look at you. You look into his eyes and the anger you saw before was replaced with pain. Softly you cooed,

"It's okay darling."

"No. It's not. I shouldn't have done it." Five replied hurt "We both remember the last time I took my anger out on you and look how great that turned out."

Five turned his head slightly to look away from you. He couldn't believe himself for directing his anger towards you when you didn't do anything wrong. When you've never done anything wrong. If anything he had done wrong towards you. You knew Five regretted the day you both traveled through time. He had mentioned it to you a few times but sometimes he'd have a far-off look and you could just tell that his thoughts of that day were consuming him again. He lived with so much pain due to his actions and their consequences and you wished you could just take it all away. You tilted his face back towards you and tried to comfort him,

"Five, I don't blame you for what happened that day, it was the result of years of cruelty from your father, and no offense to them, but your siblings have let you down consistently over what has only been two weeks for you. You had and have every right to be upset."

"You're correct but that didn't and doesn't make it right for me to take it out on you." Five calmly explained "It was wrong then and it's wrong now. I'm sorry."

"It's okay my love." you forgive

"How can you be so forgiving of me? After everything I've done?" Five questions

"Five I knew who you were before that day, and I know you now. People make mistakes, and you're no exception, but it's the actions you took after them that prove you're a good person and worthy of forgiveness." You inform

Five just looks at you for a second before stepping forward and wrapping you tightly in his arms. You remove your hands from his face and wrap your arms around his neck hugging him back. He loved you so much and god knows what he would do if he lost you again. He didn't want to lose his family either. He'd never say it especially because he's tried to show it to no avail, but he cared about his siblings. They were his family and he wanted them to live just as much as he wanted you to. The apocalypse was coming and time was running out for you and his family. And that worried him. As you hug him, you can feel his face bury into the crook of your neck. Gently, you stroke his hair as he quietly says,

"They make it so hard. I just want you all to live."

"I know, but you have a brilliant mind and I know you'll figure out how to get us out of here." You whisper back to him

Five shakes his head on your shoulder before he lifts his head to rest his forehead against yours.

"I don't deserve you." He remarks

"Say that again and I'll kill you." you threaten

Five lets out a light chuckle and a smirk comes to his face. He could not tell how serious your statement was but he found your threat of violence to be cute anyway. You and Five pull your faces back from each other and Five just looks at you for a second. He truly did not know how he could live without you. Nodding his head, Five straightened up and said,

"Alright, I have a hail mary plan in mind but I have to figure out some details first."

"Okay. While you do that I think I'm going to go check to see if Charlie is around. No guarantees he's come this way yet but just in case he has I want to let him know I'm okay." You reply

You nod your head at him and start to walk away but when you get to the door you turn back to look at him again and add,

"If you figure out your plan and I'm not back, just go without me I'll wait here."

"Okay." Five replies "I love you."

"I love you too."

You then exit the room and let your boyfriend be. He was going to need the time and space to figure out what to do. As you walk out you see that Luther had passed out on the couch in the living room. Stopping the apocalypse was a pretty tiring affair. You walked out of the apartment and looked around the street. It was pretty barren and a lot of shops were closed given that JFK was in town. Most people had probably headed downtown to see the motorcade later today. it sure would be eventful. You couldn't really see Charlie's car anywhere and you were about to turn around when you hear what sounded like a woman yell out,

"HELP!"

Immediately, your instincts kicked in and you ran towards the voice screaming out. Following it down an alley you stopped and looked around for who was in danger. Before you could turn around though something jabbed into your back and you started to feel dizzy. You tried to fight off whatever was happening but it was too late and you collapsed to the group. As your consciousness started to fade in and out, the last thing you heard was someone saying,

"I'm sure your brother will be happy to see you."

Back at the apartment, Five had finally come to terms with his plan. He needed to intercept the last person he'd want to see in this timeline. Himself. An older-looking version of him had arrived in Dallas no more than 10 minutes ago to kill President Kennedy and although it was risky, if they could get the briefcase from him, Five knew he could get his family home. He needed to prepare though. Rushing out of the bedroom, Five heads towards the kitchen and loudly opens the refrigerator door. The sound of the fridge causes Luther to wake. And as he gets up from the couch he calls out,

"Five? Five?"

Five ignored the calls as he grabbed a container of water and started to chug it down. When Luther entered the kitchen he looked upon the sight before him of Five intensely drinking water. Furrowing his eyebrows, Luther asks confused,

"Five, you okay?"

Five gasps heavily as he finishes the water and puts the container back in the fridge. "I'm gonna need to be hydrated." Five states

"Hydrated?" Luther questions

Luther watches as Five frantically looks around the kitchen for something before having his eyes lock on the kitchen table. Five walks over to it and quickly grabs a bottle of baby powder off of it before sprinkling some down each sleeve of his shirt and then some down his pants. Luther grew concerned about what was going on as he inquires,

"What's with the baby powder?" "It'll help with the itching." Five responds "What itching? There's itching? What the hell is going on here?" Luther asks before realizing "You do have a plan." Five does a few jumps and shakes to even out the baby powder he had practically doused himself in. Grabbing his jacket from the chair he walks past Luther into the living room of Elliott's apartment and explains, "Well, it's a desperation move, but since our brain-dead siblings are incapable of meeting a simple deadline, I got no choice."

Luther turns to look at his sibling and asks, "No choice about what?"

"I have to find myself." Five states looking at his watch "I just arrived in Dallas 15 minutes ago." "Should I be worried about you?"

Five puts his academy jacket back on before bending over and starting to stretch. If he was going to do this he needed to know he was dexterous enough to fight or run after himself. With his younger body and surplus of energy, it probably wouldn't be that hard. Then again it was only two weeks ago when he was still working for the commission as well, and even in his old age, he was taking people out left and right. As he stretches Five explains,

"Luther, if you recall, I was sent to 1963 on a job by the Commission to make sure the president was assassinated." "Oh! So, wait, your old self is out there." Luther says

Five stood up and looked at his brother. Finally, the wheels in Luther's big monkey brain were starting to turn and he was starting to grasp the plan Five had come up with. "Precisely." Five states "What, just walking around Dallas?" Luther asks confused

Nevermind. The monkey brain was still a monkey brain. Realizing his nitwit brother would not understand unless he described it in the same way he'd talk to a six-year-old, Five emphasized, "Walking around Dallas with a briefcase that can get us home."

Luther's eyes go wide and a surprised expression appears on his face as Five watches the lightbulb finally goes off in Luther's head. It was honestly disappointing how long it took for that to happen. "Oh, my God. Five, you're a genius!" Luther exclaims

He may be a genius but the plan wasn't perfect though. There were significant flaws in it but it was a hail-mary for a reason. Turning to Luther, Five elaborates, "However, there are two significant problems with this plan. Problem number one: I am a trained assassin, arguably the most dangerous assassin in the space-time continuum. If I know me, I'm not going to react kindly to bumping into myself. Problem number two, and this is the real fly in the ointment here: you're not supposed to exist in close proximity to yourself in the same timeline. The side effects can be disastrous." "Side effects? What sort of side effects?" Luther inquires

"Well, according to Commission Handbook Chapter 27, subsection 3b, the seven stages in paradox psychosis are stage one: denial, two: itching, three: extreme thirst and urination, four: excessive gas, five: acute paranoia, six: uncontrolled perspiration, and seven: homicidal rage." Five explains "Homicidal rage?" Luther questions

"Yeah." Five states "Jeez, I don't know. This maybe isn't such a good idea." "It's a Hail Mary. But what choice do we got, Luther?" Five exclaims "I don't know, you already seem a bit squirrelly if I'm being honest." "Look, Luther, I'm gonna need you to help me get through this one, all right? I...I need a spotter." "A spotter?"

"Yeah."

"What is that? Like, a wingman?" Luther questions

"In case the paradox psychosis gets too severe, I need you to help me stay on task, all right? So, whatever happens, whatever I say, we need to get that briefcase. Okay?" Five explains

"Okay, but where's (Y/N)?" Luther questions looking around

"I don't know. She said she was going on a walk to find Charlie but I guess hasn't come back yet." Five states "Maybe it's better that way though."

"You don't want your girlfriend coming? Don't you think she could rationalize with you more than I can if things get bad with this paradox psychosis?" Luther states concerned

"Most likely, and honestly I wouldn't mind some more steadiness from her" Five says

He then stops for a moment to think about the events at the Lonely Lodger Inn from earlier. He wouldn't mind that at all.

"Five?" Luther calls

Pulled from his thoughts he looks back to Luther and continues to explain,

"BUT if she's not there I can use my knowledge of her as leverage against myself. 45 years ago was the last time he saw her alive. He's sad, desperate, and blames himself for her death. We can use his emotional turmoil to get the briefcase if necessary."

Luther looked at his brother shocked. He knew where Five was coming from but it was almost vile considering using you against the other version of himself. Like he had said that version of him is sad, desperate, and blames himself for your death. Withholding knowledge about you just to get the briefcase would probably be on torture levels for him. Luther knew how strongly Five felt about you and the two of you were together now, so he could only imagine what could happen with the version that hasn't seen you in years.

"You're going to use your girlfriend like blackmail against yourself?"

"As I said, if necessary I will." Five comments as he starts to walk away "Now, come on Luther."

"Right..." Luther says to himself

Leaving out of the apartment the two of them head out in search of Five's Commission self. Although both still wondered where you were.

____________________________

As you started to regain your consciousness the world around you began to flood your senses. Your mind felt fogged as your head rested heavily on a cold surface. Your eyelids drooped but you tried to open them to see where you were. Through blurred vision, you were able to make out an empty grey room. It reminded you of the interrogation room at the police station Eudora worked at. This definitely wasn't the alley you were in. You moved your body around and with enough force, you manage to get yourself upright but your heavy head still hung low. As you became upright you could feel your backside hit the backing of the chair you were in. You moved your arms trying to readjust yourself but as you did so you hear the sounds of clanking and realized there was something around your wrists. You were handcuffed.

"Maybe Charlie was right about not running towards danger." You groan

It felt like your physical being and consciousness were both moving through sludge. Whatever that person injected into you to knock you out was sure as hell powerful. You tried to think of a plan to get out but all of them involved your powers and you could just feel the fatigue run through your veins from the sedative. Taking some breaths you tried to figure out where you were and where to go from here. Listening carefully you could hear the buzzing of the light above you but also the sounds of people walking and chattering outside the room you were in. Gathering energy, you threw your head back so that it was facing up towards the ceiling. You moved your eyes around and spotted a door to the left of you. There were no real defining characteristics to let you know where you were. Maybe Reggie had informed the government about you and now the FBI or CIA was going to use you as a weapon of mass destruction. Maybe the Soviets had kidnapped you and were going to use you as ransom to the US government because apparently, the world saw you as the adoptive daughter of an eccentric billionaire. Either way, you didn't know where you were and you didn't know how to get out. Overall, this was a very bad situation. Without any other real options, you sat there and waited for something to happen. As you did so you could hear the door open and the sound of someone walking into the room before closing the door behind them.

"Good, you're awake." The voice commented

You knew that voice. It was the same one as the person who had knocked you out. Although you were still too sluggish to do anything about your situation you could feel a fire start to build. Rolling your head to the side you looked towards the figure. Across the other side of a table stood a woman in all black clothes with a late 90s grunge cut with a fake smile on her face. Narrowing your eyes at them you demanded,

"Where am I?"

"You're at the Temps Commission." They responded

"Fuck." You said under your breath

This was worse than you thought, and now you were wishing you were captured by the KGB or US government. You had no clue what they knew nor what they wanted from you and since you couldn't fight back, the best course of action was to stay quiet. No matter what, you would not reveal any information about the Hargreeves but especially Five. They had been on his ass ever since he returned to 2019 and you were not going to let them get to him. The woman before you looked over as you sat in silence.

"What, no more questions?" They inquire "I feel like you'd have a lot more given who I am."

"I have no clue who you are." You remark

"Lila?"

Oh. Her. Great. Letting out an annoyed huff you stare at her with an unimpressed expression.

"Ah yes, now I recall," You comment, sarcasm laced in your voice "You're my emotionally damaged, older brother's sloppy seconds hookup, who in reality is a vomit bag of lies and manipulation."

"Listen here you little prick, I'm his girlfriend." She snaps

"You ain't shit. His girlfriend is a corpse, six feet under and somehow she's still better than you." You scoff

As your confidence grew, you started to realize that the sedative was wearing off more. You started to feel less sluggish and although physically you couldn't do much your mind became clearer. You didn't want to tip Lila off that you were regaining your strength though so you stayed in your slumped position but kept a cocky look on your face. Lila slams her hands down on the table and stares at you intensely.

"I should kill you." She threatens

"Do it. I'm sure that'll go over real well with my brother." You remark sarcastically

"You a bigger pain in the ass than Five." She remarks annoyed

"Good." You reply curtly

The two of you stare each other down intensely, neither of you saying anything. After a few moments, Lila remarks,

"You're an asshole."

"And you're the walking embodiment of sad British cooking. Fucking basic beans and toast looking ass bitch." You retort

You watch and Lila's face contorted with a flurry of emotions. Shock, confusion, anger. They were all present. Lila then stands up straight once more and in a monotone voice states,

"I have a meeting to go to."

Turning away from you she heads to the door. As she does so you shout behind her,

"Ha! That's right, leave! And just know if I could flip you off right now I would!"

As Lila steps out of the room you can hear her say to someone,

"You watch over her for now and bring her to my mother's office in 15 minutes. Understood?"

And as Lila fully leaves the room another woman steps in. Closing the door behind her, she looks through the glass window of the door as if trying to check for something before pulling the curtain down. Locking the door she walks over to the table and pulls up a chair across from you. With her hands clasped nicely on the table, she gives you a genuine wide smile and says,

"Hiya! I'm Dot!"

You looked at the woman before you. She seemed kind but this was also the Temps Commission so you had your reservations about trusting her.

"(Y/N)..."

"Oh, I know!" She replies in an upbeat tone "And let me tell you, a lot of us down at case management are so happy for you and Five. A lot of us wish the process was sped up but we have no real say in any decisions here but gosh we're just so happy for you two."

You stared at her blankly. She seemed sincere in her congrats, but part of you worried this was just some ploy to get you to let your guard down. You shifted uncomfortably in your chair and quietly commented back,

"Uh...thanks."

Dot let out a small sigh as her smile faltered a bit. Giving you a soft expression she lowers her voice and states,

"Listen, I know you're probably hesitant to trust me but if I'm going to get you out of here you're going to need to."

"I'm not going to trust anybody here. Five has told me all about you all." You state

"I understand. Let me just do something to prove you can trust me. Please just don't run after I do it. It'll cause a whole lotta trouble for the both of us." Dot says

You watch as she gets up from her seat and walks behind you. You try to turn your head as best as you can to see what she's doing but between the sedative still working its way out of your system and the fact you could not turn your head like an owl it was difficult. You watch as she crouches down for a second and then you hear the sound of something clattering to the ground. Dot walks back to her chair and sits down. As she does that you realize the clattering sound was that of your handcuffs falling to the floor. She had let you go knowing there was a chance you would run away. If you were able to move better maybe you would but that wasn't a possibility yet and you were a little curious as to what was up with her now. Shaking your wrists out a bit, Dot comments to you,

"You're free now, but please don't run. Let me get you out of here the right way."

"Get me out of here? What do you mean?" You questioned as you rested your arms on the table

Dot looked around the room once more checking to make sure nothing was there to see and hear her. Looking back towards you she explains,

"The Handler is trying to take over the commission. I and a few other folks are part of an underground resistance effort to try and stop her, because if she takes the reigns of this whole place we have no clue what will happen, but we know it won't be good."

"What do you know then?" You question, leaning forward in your seat

"From what we can infer, she wants the apocalypse to happen and she wants it to wipe out Five and the rest of the Hargreeves. But Lila obviously has a soft spot for your brother and brought him here."

"My brother Diego." You state

You knew that it was Diego who she brought. Of course, it was. Logically, it was the only answer that made sense. Hell, she thought she was his girlfriend. And yet, there was a part of you that thought about your other brother, Dean. You knew it was unlikely that he was here. It was virtually impossible, but maybe if he was all of your friends were here too. The look on your face must've said what you were thinking because Dot reached across the table and took your hands in her own.

"I'm sorry about your other brother." She consoled

Your heart clenched at those words. Taking a deep breath you attempted to ask,

"I'm guessing he..."

"Yes." Dot answered, "Along with the rest of your friends."

You looked down and nodded your head lightly. You knew how the world ended. You knew that the reality you had known, did end. And yet, somehow up until now, you had been able to block out the true gravity of the situation. You remembered how you joked with Charlie that he was the only friend you had left and to stay away from fireplaces or else you would have no one. You truly had not grieved their loss for years and instead had evaded it with humor or distractions. But now you were faced with the truth that you had always known. Your friends were dead. The apocalypse killed them. You held Dot's hands a little tighter as you squeezed your eyes shut trying to keep the tears that were forming back. With eyes still closed, you took a few small breaths before quietly asking,

"How did it happen?"

There was a silence in the room as the air loomed heavy over the two of you. Dot then took a breath before answering,

"In their last moments, they were all together singing happy birthday to your friend Kenny."

You lifted your head towards Dot and opened your eyes. You nodded your head as you managed to fight back your grief and replied softly.

"...at least Dean kept his promise."

"I know this is difficult for you to deal with especially since things are already so stressful but we can get them back." Dot states calmly

"How?" You inquired

If you had a chance to save the Hargreeves, and get your friends back, you would take it, no matter what. You loved them all and nothing was going to stop you from keeping them alive.

"In the simplest of terms, stop The Handler, Stop the 1963 apocalypse, and return the original timeline."

"I'm in." You reply without hesitation "What do I need to do?"

"Lila knows that you matter more to Diego than she does, so she brought you here to use you to keep Diego in line. We're going to head to the Handler's office soon so Lila can use you as said bait. What you need to do is still pretend that you are too sedated to actually fight or anything." Dot starts to explain

"Pretend? I am still too sedated to fight." You state confused

"Not for long though." She replies "I went to our Metaphysics Division laboratory-"

She had to be joking right? The whole concept of the Temps Commission was crazy enough but a Metaphysics Division was honestly ridiculous to you. Cutting her off you sarcastically questioned,

"Metaphysics Division? What do they do? Turn decades into candy? Synthesize a person's memories from their DNA into an injectable? Create bodies for consciousness to be transferred into?"

"They already did the first one, I'm sure they could do the second if they tried, and they accomplished the last one until Five blew up the briefcase room which unfortunately shared a wall with the lab. They moved the lab location to a safer spot after that." Dot explained, "Point being, I stole a vile of adrenaline for you."

"Because adrenaline helps bring back my powers. That's genius." You compliment

"Yes. So during the meeting, you're just going to pretend that you're still very sedated but after that, we move into phase 2."

"And what's that?" You ask

"We're getting you out of here and back to Five."

With that, Dot pulls the vial of adrenaline and a packaged medical needle out of her pocket and slides them across the table to you.

"I'm not sure what your limit is so I don't want to be the one to inject it. Also, as a fair warning, we don't have much time until I need to take you to the Handler's office." Dot explains

You nodded your head at her and grab the vial and needle. You had watched Kenny do this enough times for you that you felt you could figure it out on your own with minimal problems. Opening the packaged needle you go through the steps to fill it with the adrenaline from the vile before injecting it into your arm. You weren't sure how much you were supposed to give yourself but you felt much more energized even in the few minutes after doing so. Dot turned to you and you knew from the look on her face that it was time to go. Grabbing the handcuffs from the floor you handed them to Dot before putting your hands behind your back. Once they were on you got yourself in the headspace of pretending to be somewhat sedated and started acting less alert and coordinated.

"Are you ready?" Dot questioned

"Yup. Let's set this plan in motion." You reply

Dot then unlocks the door and the two of you walk out of the room down the halls of the commission towards the Handler's office. In the office though, the Handler looked in disbelief at Lila and her pick for new commission security detail.

"Are you kidding me?" The Handler exclaims

"You said I could hire my own team." Lila states "Yes, but I didn't mean him, for God's sake. If you don't see the problem with hiring you-know-who's brother, then you're not ready for that badge." The Handler complains

Diego looks at the scene before him of the back and forth between mother and daughter. This was going nowhere and he was not meant to be here. Trying to get up and leave he says, "I'm sorry, but I really need to get going." "Shut up!" They both yell at him

Diego slowly sits back down in his seat as the two of them go back and forth with each other. "I can't do this job if you don't trust my instincts," Lila complains "Sweetheart, your vagina needs glasses. He is not worth it." The Handler criticizes "Mum! Oh, my God."Lila exclaims embarrassed before changing her tune "This may shock you, but not everyone here likes you."

The Handler looks at Lila confused as she states, "Sounds ridiculous, but go on." "You need fresh blood loyal to us and not the old regime. I've seen Diego in the field. He is so much better trained than most of the assholes here. Why waste that when we can use it? He'll be my personal responsibility." Lila explains to her mother

The Handler turns her attention from Lila to Diego.

"You know, your brother Five and I have quite a colorful history." The handler playfully comments with a wink

Diego looks at her confused and disgusted. He hoped to god that she wasn't insinuating what he thought she was because if so he was going to kick Five's ass. Trying to both change the topic, and gage what she meant Diego replies, "My brother has beef with all except one person, and that person is not me." Diego retorts "Let me ask you something. When you're looking down the barrel of a gun, where do your loyalties lie, with your family or your principles?" The Handler asks "With me. I don't belong to anybody. Especially Lila." Diego retorts

The handler stares Diego down for a bit and there is a silence in the air. Turning back to Lila she states, "That I can work with. Run him through orientation and fill out his paperwork."

A wide smile comes to Lila's face as she happily exclaims, "Aw, thanks, Mum! I'm glad you're on board, but just to be sure he behaves I do have an insurance policy in place."

"A what?" Diego questioned

The door then opened from behind him. You had been waiting on the other side of the wall with Dot for a few minutes for some kind of signal to enter the room. You guessed Lila wanted dramatic effect, which was very villain-esque and very cliche. Walking into the room you made sure that you looked physically weak so that they wouldn't feel like you had the full ability to fight them again. Dot sat you down in a chair in between Diego and Lila before walking back outside of the room. Turning to your brother you smile at him and comment,

"Hey Eggo, how's it going? Did you get drugged and kidnapped as well?"

Diego's pulse begins to quicken as he looks between you and Lila. Anger started to build inside of him as his eyes locked on Lila. She looked at him from her seat with confusion.

"Diego, what's wrong?" She questioned

Diego couldn't believe that it was even a question of what could be wrong. How could she not see the awful nature of what she had done? Shooting up from his chair, Diego moves to place himself between you and Lila. He wasn't going to let her get any closer to you. She had already hurt you once and there was no way he was going to let it happen again. Not on his watch.

"What's wrong?" He questioned rhetorically before yelling "YOU DRUGGED AND KIDNAPPED MY SISTER!"

Lila did not fully think this plan through. She knew that Diego had a soft spot for you so she knew she could use you to help get him to stay and work as security. What she had not anticipated was his anger. She thought he would be a little upset but still happy to have you with him. That was not looking like the case though. Standing up as well, Lila tries to downplay the severity of what she had done.

"Diego, calm down, she's fine. A little sedated but fine." Lila explains with some nervous laughter

"Fine would be her not being here at all Lila!" Diego rebuked

The Handler looked at the lover's quarrel going on between the two of them. It was unexpected but it revealed a side of Diego that was unknown before. It was impressive that Lila had thought ahead to bring in the one loyalty that Diego had so that he would be less likely to act out.

"I see you do have some loyalties..." The Handler comments "Good thinking on the blackmail sweetheart."

As you quietly sat handcuffed, trying to pretend that you had no ability to use your powers, you couldn't help but get irritated at Lila and Diego. Feeling the need to add your input, you cut in commenting,

"Y'know...I'm just putting it out there, but Eudora never would've drugged and kidnapped me to use me as blackmail because she was actually a good person."

"Shut up." Lila scolds, glaring at you

"Don't talk to my sister like that!" Diego reprimands

"Yeah! Fuck you, beans and toast." You add

"What?" Diego asks looking down at you confused

"Just roll with it." You whisper back to him

"Diego," Lila calls bringing his attention back to her "Look at it this way. At least she's with you her brother and not her awful boyfriend, Five."

"He's a pain in my ass, and I don't like sharing her but he's not an awful boyfriend. Everything he has done is for her." Diego replies

"I'm telling him you said that." You mention

Diego once again turns to look at you and in the sternest of tones he states,

"No."

He then turns back to Lila and continues to explain,

"And second of all, I'd rather her be with him than here because then at least I know she's protected."

The Handler was becoming less and less amused by this argument the more it went on. Deciding she was done with their petty bickering she stood up from her desk and commanded,

"Enough. Lila, take your little puppy to orientation."

Lila tried grabbing Diego's arm to take him away but he held his ground. No matter what he was not going to leave you behind, especially not alone with the Handler. Lila looked between her mother and Diego, growing increasingly worried about what would happen if Diego didn't leave with her soon. Lila tried pulling him along once more but he pulled his arm from her grasp. Placing a hand on your shoulder he turned to face the handler. Standing his ground, Diego demanded,

"I'm not going anywhere without my sister."

"Alright." The handler replies monotonously "Kill him, Lila."

"No!" You and Lila shout in unison

The two of you glare at each other before you look towards your brother. He was not dying just because he felt this need to stick around and protect you. You knew he was always going to put you first in a way he barely did with anyone else, but you were not going to risk losing your other brother because of his need to protect you.

"Diego please go." You asked calmly

Diego looked towards you before crouching down in front of you. Looking you in the eyes, he gently holds onto each of your arms. He said no words but you could feel his hands shake.

"I'm not leaving you." He stated, trying to keep his voice calm

There was a certain deja vu to the conversation you were having with Diego. Your brain traveling back to that day in 2019. You tried not to think too much about it but knowing what had happened after made this conversation even harder. You didn't want to make your brother leave, but you knew you needed to so he could be safe. You just hoped that this time things would turn out better.

"Diego. Go." You forced out

He looked at you sadly but knew you wouldn't budge on the issue. Wrapping his arms around you he pulls you into a tight hug, not wanting to let you go. If your hands weren't cuffed behind your back you would've held him as well but all you could do was rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'll be okay," you whispered, trying to reassure Diego of the decision

"I'm gonna come back for you." He whispered back

He let out a sigh before standing up and reluctantly nodding towards Lila to show him the way. You turned your head to watch him leave. Diego looked back at you one more time, hoping that he would see your face again soon. And with that, he left and you were now left alone with the Handler herself. You watched as she made her way around her desk and leaned back on it so she was now in front of you. She gave you a smile that was nowhere near as friendly as Dot's was. It unsettled you greatly. Instinctively, you leaned back in your seat as you stared quietly back at her.

"So you must be Five's little plaything," The handler comments "I'm so glad I finally get to meet you. I was hoping it would be on better circumstances but for some reason, Five never wanted to bring you around."

You could see why he didn't want you two to meet. Although she tried to portray herself as kind it was very evident that she was psychotic.

"Not much of a talker, huh?" She questions "Maybe a candy would help? Would you like one?"

She gestures to a bowl of candy on her desk. Honestly, you wouldn't mind one and you were so done with the day at this point that you were willing to accept the risk it might be poisoned.

"Sure, but uh...I can't really grab it." You reply shaking your arms to gesture to the handcuffs

The handler moves from leaning on her desk to behind you and undoes one handcuff before re-cuffing it on the armrest of the chair you were in. Still not great, but at least you were able to have some movement of your hands and arms. The handler grabs a piece of candy from the bowl and hands it to you. A smirk resided on her face as she watches you take the candy from her hand.

"Here have this one," she says before walking back behind her desk

As she walks back to her chair, you unwrap the candy and pop it in your mouth. It didn't taste too great. It tasted like stress and tears and sadness, but then again it was not as bad as the weird food concoctions you and your friends had made before. You crunched on it a little bit before swallowing it all. As the handler sits back down in her seat she starts to say,

"We've synthesized specific years into- wait did you just eat that whole thing?"

"Yeah." You reply bluntly

"That was The Great Depression candy." She states shocked

"Ah, that makes more sense. I thought it just tasted like finals week. Not bad though." You respond

The handler looks at you baffled. She purposely gave you the Great Depression as a way to knock you down and show her superiority but you ate the whole thing like it was nothing.

"Not bad? It was made to taste like blood, sweat, tears, and depression."

You shrug your shoulders and nonchalantly reply,

"It could be worse."

"It could be worse? What is wrong with you?" She questions before saying "Nevermind."

The handler took a moment to try and regain herself. Not even she was able to eat the Great Depression candy without gagging. This was a situation she had not anticipated but she wasn't going to be confused or intimidated by some child. You on the other hand felt a pride rise inside you. You tried to hold your laughter back as you thought to yourself, Now I've thrown her off her rhythm. This situation was bad but at least you were able to make it entertaining. The handler after reestablishing her "polite" composure brought a faux smile back to her face as she turned her attention towards you again.

"You are quite the individual. Just like Five, we've had our eyes on you for a long time."

"That's kinda creepy but alright." You comment back

"Well, we do monitor all of time to make sure that what's supposed to happen, happens. Of course, we were going to notice children with unexplained immense powers, such as yourself. Molecular manipulation is quite the gift."

"Yeah, you could say I'm the main character of this story." You mention with a wink "No one can do what I do."

"I'm sure someone could mimic your powers."

"Ha! I sure would like to see that bitch try." you scoffed "The dipshit would be writhing on the ground in pain for their hubris. I can only imagine what type of dumbass would willingly take on feeling the extent of everything that makes up this world without years of tolerance training. Idiot."

You couldn't believe the stupidity of her statement. You'd think if she had been monitoring you throughout your life that she would know it took you forever to build up a tolerance to feeling the molecules in the world. Before you started learning to control your abilities you blew stuff up as a child because you were in pain. Imagine having such a large ego that you think you could copy that without putting in any training for it. What a "yeah let me just try to surpass god" type of mentality you were getting from this woman.

The handler couldn't believe you either. She was growing more frustrated with you having some kind of counterpoint to everything she did or said. It was like you were prepared to be here even though it was clearly established that you weren't. She was just glad that the only power you had right now was the ability to run your mouth. The handler knew she was going to get under your skin though. She had her ways.

"You know, it's just so sweet the history that you and Five have. Always believing the two of you would find each other again one day." She states, traces of malice in her tone "It's something I thought about during Five and I's involved, and colorful history."

You furrowed your eyebrows. Did- did she think you were stupid? You knew she was trying to suggest that she and Five were a thing but they obviously weren't. Anyone with half a brain cell could see that. Your boyfriend hated this woman and hated his time at the commission. He said it himself, it was nothing more than a job. He absolutely despised these people, especially her, and currently was working directly against this organization as he always had been. And on top of it, everything he's done was motivated by his love for you. Even Diego who was not happy that you had a boyfriend knew that was Five's motivation. This woman was certifiably insane.

"Ma'am if you're trying to insinuate you fucked my boyfriend, I know you're lying. Intimacy of any kind, but especially physical intimacy catches him off guard." You elaborate unamused "Also if you two have such an involved history then why is that he spent his whole life trying to get back to me, despises you and the rest of the commission, and is actively trying to thwart you in every way possible."

The handler glared at you. She thought she was going to get under your skin with that comment and yet here you sat throwing it back in her face and getting under hers. Scornfully she rebuked,

"You know I never quite understood why Five chose you. I can't seem to find one reason to like you."

"Well, I can seem to find a lot of reasons actually. I'm pretty, I'm smart, I'm powerful, I cared for him when no one else would, I didn't knowingly leave him alone in an apocalyptic wasteland for 45 years." You retort sarcastically "And those are just a few of the many reasons."

"You know pride is one of the seven deadly sins," The handler comments leaning forward in her seat

"So is envy." you retort

The handler gets back up from her seat and walks over to you once more. Looking down at you with contempt she asks,

"You know what I see?"

"What?" you reply

"I see a weak, pathetic child who thinks that she's the center of attention in this giant book of life. A child who is so scared of confronting her past she hides behind a harsh exterior with only her words to defend her." She attempts to insult

It didn't work though because you knew she was wrong. She had no clue who you were or what you were like. You had her stumped and you knew she was grasping at straws to try and put you down. To try and make you feel belittled so that she could exert power over you. She had no power over you because the fact of the matter was, you were the one in power here, and you were going to assert it.

"Well, you know what I see?" You ask with a smug smile

"No. Tell me, what do you see?"

Still handcuffed you lean forward in your chair looking up at where she stood right in front of you. Lowering your voice you go on to say,

"I see a woman, past her prime, deluded by a fantasy of some kind of romantic tryst with a man who never wanted her to begin with. You have led yourself so far down a path of irrationality that you have convinced yourself there was some kind of connection that was never there. He was your subordinate, nothing more. And now here you stand, grasping at straws for some sense of control and power, in the middle of a failing coup d'état of your own making, because you feel like you are losing your grip on the reality you created for yourself. A reality wrecked by the very man that you convinced yourself wanted you back."

Immediately after you finished your statement, the handler's hand snapped towards you and grabbed your face. She forced your head up to look at her and you could see the rage in her eyes. You were winning this battle. Angrily the handler replied,

"You better show me some respect. I have the power to ruin your life, take everything you love away, I could even kill you for that matter."

"I don't need to show you shit. My life has already been ruined, practically all that I love has disappeared in one way or another," You retort "and just so you know, the only way I'll ever die is if I choose to let it happen."

The handler leaned in towards you and her grip on your face tightened. You could feel her nails sink into your skin a little more. You weren't intimidated by her though. She was pathetic and wasn't worth your time. When she got close enough to you a sadistic smirk came to your face for a moment before you spit in hers. The handler whipped your head to the side as she pulled back in disgust. Wiping her face off she looks towards you in anger but you sit there with a proud smile.

"You're lucky you make good blackmail or else you'd be dead right now." she comments furiously before shouting "DOT!"

Dot quickly enters the room and the handler whips her gaze towards her.

"Take this disgusting child back to her holding cell." She commands

Dot nods her head and quietly makes her way over to you. Unlocking the one handcuff from the armrest she redoes the cuffs behind your back before helping you to stand. The two of you walk towards the door to leave the handler's office but before you do so you stop in your place. Turning to face the handler you firmly state,

"Les chaînes des oppresseurs ne durent que tant que les opprimés les laissent rester. La liberté est inévitable."

And without another word you and Dot left.

____________________________

"Well, there I am." Five stated

He and Luther had made their way over to the pub that Five knew he would be at. From behind a pillar the two of them spied on older looking but younger self. Five remembered this day perfectly. He had sat over at the bar trying to perfect the equation to jump forward to 2019. He thought about you a lot, wondering how you would feel about him coming back, if you would be upset with him...if he'd get the opportunity to confess his feelings even though it probably would go nowhere.

What a sad mess of a man.

"Hey Five, why don't we just grab the briefcase and run?" Luther questioned "Luther, I would never let that happen. We're trained to guard these briefcases with our lives." Five explained "Plus, it's the inherent paradox where this gets tricky. I'm endangering my existence just being in the room with myself."

"Huh...What do you mean?" Luther asked confused

God, how dense was he? Did Five really have to spell it out for his brother? Letting out an exasperated sigh, Five elaborated,

"Luther, try to keep up. If old me doesn't travel back to 2019 like he's supposed to, the whole thing unravels itself. I cease to exist. You got me?" "I get you," Luther responds

Five was not confident though that Luther actually got him. "So our best chance is to talk with him, to reason with him." Five continues "He'll understand. Trust me. I know myself better than, uh...better than I know myself."

Unconsciously, Five reaches back and scratches the back of his neck causing Luther to quietly exclaim, "You just itched your neck. That's stage two of paradox psychosis."

"No, I didn't. I didn't itch my neck." Five denies "Denial is stage one." Luther reminds

Five was not going to deal with this back and forth. He was fine. Completely and utterly fine. Nothing was wrong at all and no paradox psychosis was setting in. He was good. Snapping at his brother he states, "I am fine, okay? Let's stay on task, shall we?"

Five attempts to start walking over to his commission self but Luther puts an arm out to stop him. "Wait!" Luther says "What?" Five questions

"Maybe I should go first." "Why?"

"Well, you'll freak him out. Bumping into your own tiny doppelganger? He will lose his shit. Just let me break the ice." Luther suggests

Five thought about it for a second and realized Luther was right. It might be better to send him in, although now he was wishing he had you here because you would probably be the best option to reason with him. But then again, he could see himself freaking out even more because your presence in 1963 meant something very wrong happened. Well, at least he still had the blackmail option. Five nods to his brother and Luther slowly makes his way over to commission Five. Luther awkward leans on the bar next to him and calls,

"Five."

Commission Five registered the word the person had just said to him but wasn't sure if he was hearing him correctly. Looking up at the person he sees a giant man standing there. Looking him up and down he asks, "What'd you call me, big man?" "It's me. Number One?" Luther replies "Luther. How did you...?" Commission Five questions as he starts to reach down towards the briefcase at his feet

"It's okay. Everything is fine. I can explain. But first, I need to introduce you to somebody. Just promise me you won't freak out." Luther tries to calm "What the hell are you talking about?" Five replies with wide eyes

"Uh! Don't freak out. No freak-outs. All right?" "Hey there, stranger." Academy Five greeted

The two of them stare quietly at each other. This was the worst of situations and both of them knew it but what was more important was making sure they were the one to possess the briefcase.

"How about we all sit down together?" Luther suggests

Commission Five leans down and grabs the briefcase as Academy Five continues to stare at him. Cautiously the two of them walk over to a nearby table that Luther has found available. Slowly the Five's sit down across from each other, their staring contest continuing on.

"I'll get us some drinks!" Luther exclaims walking over to the bar

Neither of them said a word to their other and tension loomed in the air. Neither knew if it was due to the paradox psychosis or just the fact that they both had to look at a reflection of their and future failures. Either way, it was an undesirable experience. After a minute, Luther comes back with three pints of beer in hand. Placing one in front of each person at the table he takes a seat and comments,

"Well...this is nice, isn't it? The three of us, together like this." "No." Both Fives say in unison "Somebody explain to me how it is I'm having a pint of Guinness with my younger self." Commission Five inquired

"Older, actually. I'm you, just 14 days older." Academy Five states

Commission Five leans in more as he remarks, "I have pubic hair smarter than you. How's that possible?"

"I can explain. You see, one hour from now, on the grassy knoll, before the president is killed, you break your contract with the Commission. I already know you're thinking about it. All those years in the apocalypse, we never stopped worrying about our family" Five explains taking a pause before continuing "About (Y/N)."

Luther looks between the two Fives confused. They worried about the family? It was understandable that they worried about you but the family too? Surprising. Commission Five's eyes glaze over for a second and he looks off in the distance as his teen counterpart's words resonate in his mind. He did worry about his family but mainly he worried for you. The image of that first day in the apocalypse never left him no matter how many years had passed. It was seared into his memory and haunted his nightmares. Coming back into focus, Five leans in and replies in a low voice,

"Of course. Why wouldn't I worry about her? You know what happened." "I do know what happened and preventing that outcome is the most important thing. So today, you are going to do something about it. Today, you are going to attempt to time travel forward to 2019. However, you are going to mess up the calculations, screw up the jump, and end up in this younger body." Academy Five explains

"Okay. So what am I supposed to do about it, not jump?" Commission Five asks

"No, no. I need you to jump. If you don't jump, I cease to exist and there is someone in this timeline who would not be happy about that." Academy Five states firmly

Commission Five's eyes go wide. Instinctively, his hand and covers the part where his locket rested. Were you here in 1963 as well? His heart raced a little and he excitedly questioned,

"You mean-"

"Yes." Academy Five answered

"...What's she like?" Commission Five asked in awe at the thought of you being around

"Ethereal." "I'm listening. Go on." Commission Five pressed

This is exactly why Five was fine with you not being here. Now he had bargaining power against his former self. The pathetic man was desperate for any crumb of knowledge about you. An unfriendly smile came to Academy Five's face as he explained his offer,

"I'll be glad to tell you more in exchange for that briefcase you're holding under the table. And I'll even give you the right equation for this time if you want it."

Commission Five looked back at his teen-looking self without saying any words. Taking the opportunity to speak Luther re-explained, "Yeah, yeah, so you go back to 2019, as planned, see (Y/N) and this time with the right math, so you can remain a full-grown man. In exchange, we get that briefcase that you no longer need. Timeline restored, paradox resolved. Everyone goes on existing happily ever after." "That's quite a bit to take in." Commission Five commented

"What do you think?" Academy Five asked "I think...I need to piss." Commission Five responded

He then got up from the table, grabbing the briefcase from the floor below him, and made his way to the bathroom. Academy Five watched with wide eyes as he walked away from the table. Grabbing a napkin, Luther began to dab the sweat off of Five's face commenting, "Well, besides the flop sweat, I think that went pretty well." "No, there's something- something doesn't feel right about this." Five remarked

"What do you mean?" Luther questioned "I don't trust him." Five stated "But he's you," Luther replied confused "Exactly."

Luther slowly nodded his head. The psychosis looked like it was really starting to pick up in Five. Luther hoped they would be able to get the briefcase soon so that Five didn't get worse. Downing the rest of his pint, Luther turns to Five and explains,

"Well, I need to go take a piss as well, and maybe as your spotter, I can reason with him a bit, alright? Just wait here."

Five watches as Luther gets up and walks away. He could only hope that things would all work out the way they should.

____________________________

As you and Dot quietly walked down the hallway you whispered to her,

"What's this phase two that you have in mind?"

You watch as Dot looks around for a second to make sure no one in the hallway was paying attention before pulling you into a side corridor. She takes one more glance around the surroundings before whispering to you,

"The resistance is going to get a briefcase so you can escape back to 1963, but to get to the briefcase room unnoticed, we'll need a distraction."

"Ah, I see where is going. You want me to cause the distraction."

"Yes." Dot replies "If you can draw enough security away from the briefcase room we can slip in and get one so that you can get out of here."

You nod your head as you phase your wrists through the handcuffs so you can have your arms free again. Looking back to her you state,

"I'm not leaving without Diego."

"Don't worry, I talked to Herb, another member of the resistance in the hall, and he said he was going to retrieve him." She reassures

"Good." You respond before asking "Where should I meet you?"

"Storage closet 2. It's on the east side of the building across from the period clothing department."

You peer around the corner of the corridor and look out into the hallway to see who was there. It was relatively empty with only a few people passing by. As you keep watch you ask Dot,

"Is the briefcase room to the left or right?"

"The right. Why?" She questions

"No time for questions. Just trust me. I'll see you soon." You respond

And before she can say anything else, you turn yourself invisible and sprint off to the left down the hall. Dodging the people who were walking by, you looked for some room that seemed important. As you searched, you passed the handler's office doors. Stopping in your tracks and backing up you look at the double doors for a second. A mischievous smile comes to your face as you take each hand and place them on the door handles. You heat the molecules of the handles and the lock inside of the door so that they all start to melt before quickly cooling it all down. With the handles and lock all now one solid amalgamation you knew that she would be locked in there for a bit. Turning back around you continue running off down the hall searching for a room that seemed important until you found one. Looking at the sign that said Tube Room you decided to investigate more. Phasing through the wall you entered the room and saw a line of different tubes spread down the length of a hall. Taking a look around to see that no one was there, you drop your invisibility and prepare for the mother of all distractions. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and focused on the molecules around you in this room. Specifically, that of the tubes that lined the walls Shooting your eyes back open you took off running down the hall of tubes, blowing each one behind you up as you passed them by. You could feel the pulsing of the explosions and the heat from the leftover flames as you continued to move forward down the hall. As you reached the end of the hall, you ran through the wall to the other side hearing the sound of the last explosion resonate behind you. You stopped for a moment to brush yourself off when you heard over the PA system,

"Security to the tube room. Security to the tube room."

"I better get out of here." You say to yourself

You look around for any sign that would point you in the direction of the east side of the building. You should've asked for more directions from Dot, but you were all too excited to start bringing this organization to its knees. Down the hall, you see a sign with an arrow on it pointing towards the period clothing department.

"Bingo," you exclaim

You start to quickly make your way towards the sign when you hear someone from behind you yell,

"Stop right there!"

Looking back you saw a significant amount of people in blue suits pointing guns at you. You were about to run away when you looked forward and saw another similar-looking group on the other side of the hall.

"Shit."

You were trapped. Granted, you weren't really trapped, you could just use your powers to sneak out of this situation but you had no clue if Dot was able to get a briefcase yet. Was this all the security they had or was there more scattered around? Dot had mentioned that Five blew up the briefcase room the last time he was here, so they had to have had more security for it. Security that you needed to draw to here.

"If you wanna stop me you're gonna have to kill me!" You announced

Guns drawn, the guards started to come towards you. You kept calm though and waited patiently for the first line of security to get close enough. If you were going to cause a distraction then hell you were going to make it unforgettable. Slowly, the 12 guards inched closer and closer until they were just where you wanted them. As this first line flanked you on all sides you gave them a wicked smile and within a second a boom rang throughout the hallway. It was all calm for a moment and then...chunks of flesh and blood rained down over the hall. There was nothing left where those 12 guards had stood, and at that moment it became clear that you were not trapped with these guards. They were trapped with you. You were Persephone, the bringer of destruction, and the chaos had only just begun.

Pulling out two of your knives you watched as more guards started showing up to try and stop you. You could feel the adrenaline you had injected coursing through your veins. This is where the fun begins. Realizing what you had just done the guards start to rush in. One by one you started to take them down. It was like you were moving in slow motion as you fought the crowd around you. Your movements becoming less so fighting maneuvers and more of a rhythmic dance. In a focused daze, you made your way around slashing throats and melting brains of all those who charged at you. With their guns drawn, they sent shots your way but it did not matter because all the bullets did was go through you and hit other guards. You watched the blood and the shit spray as swathes of agents dropped to the floor dead. The lucky ones were shot or blown to bits while the less fortunate dealt with the pain of slowly burning to death or being tossed back and forth between the walls like useless playthings. You bathed in the sounds of their agony. They all were going to suffer the way they made your darling Five do for years. And like the Roman empire, they fell to their demise.

When the combat had stopped you came out of your trance. Catching your breath you looked around at the bloodbath you created. The once white marble floors were now stained with rivers of red. You were victorious in your battle, and like the Queen of Hell, your destruction reigned over this place. You turned to walk away and head towards the storage closet when the sound of a gun rang out and pain came to your arm. You looked down and saw that a bullet had grazed your forearm leaving behind a wound. Your head shot back in anger to see where the shot hand came from. One guard was still alive, paralyzed from the waist down but still alive. You made your way towards them and they tried to shoot again but they were all out of bullets. Slowly, you crouched down to them on the floor, your eyes ignited with flames and you said in a low tone,

"You missed."

Reaching into their chest you ripped out their heart and crushed it in front of them. You watched as the light quickly slipped from your eyes. Letting out a huff you placed two fingers over your wound and used your powers to cauterize it. You were done here and made your way towards the rendezvous point. As you walked that way the adrenaline started to wear off and you started to fully realize what had gone down. Urgency set in as you saw the blood you were covered in and realized you need to get out of here. Finally seeing the clothing department you ran into it real quick and changed clothes, using some scrap cloths and a water bottle you found to wipe the blood off of you. You then raced across the hall to storage closet 2 where Dot, Diego and a group of other people were all standing around.

"Hey everyone," You say frantically "We need to get out of here fast because I'm pretty sure I just committed a war crime."

"Oh, uh okay. Well, unfortunately, we couldn't grab a fully functioning briefcase in time because people came back to protect the briefcase room," Herb explains

"But, we still got one!" Dot explains positively "It just happens to be a one-way case. They become useless after one time jump."

"We've already set it up with the correct time and location. Halfway between FBI headquarters and the pub where Five is located." Herb adds "Here are some maps to show you how to get to those places."

You and Diego both reach out and grab a map.

"Thank you." You reply quickly

Diego turns to look at you,

"Ready to go, kiddo?"

You nodded your head quickly at him. Diego took the briefcase in one hand and wrapped his other arm around you tightly. Herb stepped forward and pushed a few buttons before stepping back you could feel the energy from the case start to grow as you tried to manage your breathing. Giving the group of people before you one last look, you say,

"Vive la résistance."

Almost immediately after there was a flash and now you stood with your brother in the middle of Dallas, back in 1963. You watched as the briefcase started smoking and making unpleasant clanking sounds. Finding a nearby dumpster, Diego threw the defunct briefcase away before coming back over to you and pulling out his map trying to figure out the path to the FBI building. It wasn't far from where you stood but every second spent standing around was another second closer to Vanya ending the world...again. Looking up from his map he looked towards you. You silently looked back at him and waited for him to say something. You could tell something was on his mind. Diego was torn. He wanted to bring you with him to the FBI headquarters so he knew where you were and didn't have to worry that you had been taken by Lila again but he didn't want to put in danger of what Vanya was doing. The last time Vanya strongly used her powers you were seriously injured and putting you right in harm's way of that was something he would never choose. Diego came to a decision in his head. It was going to take a lot to say this but Diego knew it was the best option.

"Go find Five. He'll keep you safe."

You were surprised by his statement. Diego had been very back and forth on you being with Five since every before Five came back, although he would never admit it. But this plus the comment from earlier were the strongest confirmations that maybe just maybe, Diego was coming around. Although his comments gave you reason to celebrate, this was not really the time and you were also very worried about him. You didn't want to be separated from your brother especially if he was headed to stop Vanya.

"Will you be okay?" You questioned

"I'll be fine." Diego responds "Now go get to Five. He can protect you from the commission more than I can."

Instead of saying any words you just took a step forward and hugged your brother. It was brief because time was of the essence but it was enough to reassure both him and yourself that things would be alright. You pulled away from Diego and the two of you gave each other knowing nods before turning in opposite directions and running towards your respective destinations. Using your powers you made yourself lighter so that you could move faster. You had no clue if the commission was after you. You wouldn't be surprised given you had pissed off both Lila and her mom, the handler. It didn't take you long to see the pub marked on your map up ahead. You slowed your pace as you made your way to the door and calmly entered the establishment. You looked around for a second before spotting a familiar uniformed boy, sitting alone at a table. You walked over to the table he was at and called,

"Five."

His head snaps over to you. His eyes were wide and his face was covered in sweat. You were taken aback by how frantic and unwell he looked. You cupped his face in your hands and felt the warmth radiating off of his skin. As you tried to cool down the water molecules in the sweat on his face you said,

"Oh my god, are you feeling okay darling? You look awful."

Five quietly stood up as you still held his face in your hands. He appreciated you using your powers to try and cool him down but he was confused as to what you were doing here.

"How did you find me?" He asked

"I'm fine." you instinctively responded

"That's not the question I asked." Five states "Also are these new clothes?"

"Listen, the specifics of the situation don't matter too much right now but I promise I will tell you later. What's the plan?" You inquired

"I- I don't know." Five states scratching the back of his neck "I'm still working on it."

"Don't worry, it's going to be okay." you comforted as you brought him into a hug "We'll figure this out together."

Five wrapped his arms back around you and held you tightly. IF he was experiencing any paradox psychosis, at that moment it melted away for a bit. Just you being with him gave him a sense of calm even though the world around him was anything but that. He just hoped that this calm would last even after Luther had returned.

As Luther had walked into the bathroom a few moments earlier, he sees Commission Five standing in front of the sink looking at the glass eye that would belong to the future, Harold Jenkins. Walking over to the urinals he comments to Five,

"Yeah, that's a waste of time. Trust me."

A waste of time? It was one of the only clues he had. How could it be a waste of time? "Then why were you holding it when I found you dead in the apocalypse?" Five questioned

"No idea. But the guy it belonged to didn't end the world. Vanya did." Luther stated "Timid little Vanya?" Five asked confused

"Yep. Is more powerful than all of us put together. Turns out, she was pissed about the way we treated her when we were kids, so she destroyed the moon and ended the world."

"Fair enough." Five said nodding his head "This is perfect. We now know exactly what's gonna happen."

"Yeah, except it, uh, already did," Luther replies approaching Five

Five turns to him with plenty of new ideas rushing through his mind. Not only how to stop the apocalypse and get this version of Five to disappear. He was unnecessary. "Don't think, just listen. Forget about the little jerk-off's plan. It's way too complicated. A much better plan is for us to travel to 2019. All we have to do is make nice with Vanya, stop her from destroying the world. Easy-peasy." Five explains "Hmm. Well, that's actually...that's not bad." Luther responds "But what about Five? I mean, you? I mean, the, uh, young you."

"That's not me. That's a teenaged hormonal photocopy that got botched in the time jump. Besides, it's too late for him anyway." Five states

"Too late? Paradox psychosis?" Luther inquires

Five nods his head, answering, "Best thing we can do is put him out of his misery." "You're saying to kill him?"

"You're thinking about this all wrong. We're not killing anybody." Five elaborates "Look at me. I'm Five, and I will still be alive. All we are doing is getting rid of a mutant doppelganger."

"Are you sure you don't have paradox psychosis?" Luther questions concerned "I've never felt better in my life." Five states

I just don't know Five..." Luther responds warily "(Y/N) wouldn't be very happy to know her boyfriend is gone from existence."

Commission Five stopped in his place. His head slowly turned back to look at Luther who had an innocent yet conflicted look on his face.

"Boyfriend?" He questioned surprised

"Yeah. Boyfriend." Luther responds "But like I was saying, I don't know about getting rid of him, this would be like the third time she's lost him- you...y'all? And she's really powerful and she almost killed me once for insulting Diego, and you remember the bank she blew that guy's head clean off. I just don't feel like it's the best idea to rip that Five away from her..."

Commission Five hadn't listened to a word Luther had said though because once the word boyfriend had slipped from Luther's mouth his heart began to race. If that version was her boyfriend that meant she loved him too. No. That would be insane. Maybe Luther said the words too fast and so he said boyfriend when he meant boy friend. There was no way that she felt the same way he did. Could she? Did she love him this whole time? Did she die loving him the same way he loved her? No, they were just friends. Just...friends. Five wanted to believe that what Luther was saying was true and that she did love him enough to have him be her boyfriend but it just didn't add up in his mind. How could she love someone who abandoned her in a different time, who took everything she knew away from her and left her wondering till the day she died if her best friend was mad at her. It was impossible though. Five looks up towards Luther who still towered over him like he did when they were kids.

"The little prick out there won't tell me jack about her." Five complains before asking quietly "What's she like Luther?"

"Well...I haven't been around her much but uh she's very powerful, more so than when we were kids. Uh, I mean she definitely cares about the people she loves, and um apparently she was dad's favorite both in 2019 and this timeline."

"That makes sense. When I read her diary she wrote about a lot of the things he did for her. Was too much to be coincidental."

"Wait what? He did stuff for her?" Luther questions

"Doesn't matter. So she's here? In this timeline?" Five inquires

"Uh- I don't know where but yeah," Luther responds

Five nods his head.

"Alright well, let's head out then." Five comments

As the two of them open the men's bathroom door and exit both of them see a sight they didn't know would be there. Five froze in place and his jaw dropped as he looked ahead of him.

"Oh look, there she is!" Luther commented

He was right. There you stood. Alive. Five could feel his heart stop and he didn't know if he was breathing anymore as he stared off at you. The world faded away as his focus became you and only you. Five could feel his heart clench as he remembered the last time he saw you alive. It was 45 years ago, right before you died. He remembered cradling you in his arms, blood getting on his academy uniform as he cried over your dead body. Tears pricked his eyes as he took all of you in. You were smiling, moving, breathing and to him, that was a miracle. He could only see the side of your face but the little shit was right, you were ethereal. As the world came back into focus he noticed you wrapped in the arms of his teenage counterpart. He saw the gentle look in his counterpart's eyes as your hands wrapped around his neck bringing him into a hug. Five wanted a hug from you, it had been so long since he had gotten one. As Five stood there, he felt Luther nudge his arm. Turning his attention to him, Luther says,

"Alright lover boy, time to get your head out of the clouds and go interact with the love of your life for the first time in years."

"Ah well, no...we're just- I mean..." Five stutters

"Oh, we're just best friends. Don't give me that shit you openly yelled about how you loved her when we were 12." Luther ridicules "Now c'mon let's go."

Luther starts to push Commission Five forwards back towards the table and Commission Five's heart begins to race with every step closer. As Academy Five noticed Commission Five head back towards the table he held you tighter to him. His face contorted into a scowl as he looked at this version of his approach towards you. He could see the look on his face, one of nervousness and awe. Academy Five didn't like it one bit and if it wasn't for you hugging him he felt like he would've punched the old man right where he stood. You felt as Five tensed up in the hug and pulled back to look at him. looking up at his face you saw it was filled with anger but couldn't begin to decipher why. You followed his gaze to see what had angered him so and when you looked behind you, you saw Luther standing there with an older gentleman. You looked back towards your boyfriend whose face was still filled with rage and asked,

"Five, who is this?"

Five stared the man down and let out a huff before replying,

"He's me."

________________________________

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justoneofthoseghosts · 3 years ago

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Not sure if you’re still doing these but Brettsey X Me - Protect Me - something where Matt is protective over Sylvie. Maybe this new Chief Hawkins is harassing her or giving her a hard time/putting her through her paces and she doesn’t want to tell Casey in case he flies off the handle.

A/N: Not exactly what was requested I think but it's the best I could do!

“So, how is Bend, Oregon?”

Matt laughs on the other end of the line, “small and very nature-y. I miss all the Chicago fumes.”

“Why am I not surprised you’d say that?” Sylvie teases. Matt thinks he can hear the smile in her voice and it makes him miss her even more.

“How are things at 51?” Matt asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

It’s been two days since he filed for furlough and took the next flight out to visit Griffin and Ben. It’s still early in the morning but the Chicago to Oregon jet lag/time change seems to be all too real. The boys are still sleeping as he pads over to the kitchen. He wedges his phone between his shoulder and ear as he makes a cup of coffee.

“Not too bad. Stella’s enjoying being the relief lieutenant. You should see her in action. She was born to do this,” Sylvie states proudly.

“There’s not questioning that. How about you? How’s ambo doing?” Matt inquires. He knows she had a rough call a few shifts ago and he hopes 61 hasn’t had to experience that again. Sylvie and Violet were some of the best paramedics in the business but even they were human and going through something like that is never ideal.

There’s silence for a moment on the other end of the line and Matt knows Sylvie is hesitating about something.

“Hey, Sylvie, whatever it is, you can talk to me about it,” he tells her gently.

Sylvie sighs, “you know me too well.”

“I should hope so,” Matt chuckles, “so?”

“Hawkins is riding with 61 this shift,” she blurts out.

Matt takes a sip of his coffee, letting Sylvie’s words sink in. Maybe this new Paramedic Field Chief is coming around to the idea.

“And you’re worried about it because -“ he trails off.

“Because what if after all this, he still says no? I know Paramedicine is a good idea but without the support from the Paramedic Field Chief, the CFD is never going to let it happen,” Sylvie finishes, her voice solemn.

In his mind’s eye, he thinks he can see her gnaw on her bottom lip because she’s anxious about the possibility. He hates how she seems to be second guessing herself, letting her nerves take over. Sylvie’s been working on this project for the last few weeks. She wakes up early in the morning to go through data and studies and he knows it means a lot to her. He's thought about stepping in and maybe talking to a few white shirts who he knows are friendly but he doesn't think Sylvie would appreciate it as much so he fights the urge to be over protective. She's done so much already, show so much grit and determination to see this through. He knows that if anyone can make this a reality, it’s Sylvie Brett with two t’s.

“Hey, listen to me, you’re going to be great. You’re going to do what you do every single shift and if Hawkins can’t see that then screw him. We’ll figure out a way to make this all happen,” Matt advises.

Sylvie lets out a small laugh and Matt can feel her start to relax. Just as she’s about to speak, Matt hears the unmistakable sound of the bells going off. Instinctively, he wants to run to the app floor. He stops himself realizing he’s not at 51 but rather in a kitchen miles away from the firehouse.

“That’s my cue. I gotta go. I love you,” Sylvie says.

“I love you too. be safe out there,” Matt replies before ending the call.

Matt checks in with Sylvie again when shift is over.

“So, how’d it go?” Matt asks as he heads to the porch to get some fresh air.

Sylvie doesn’t speak for a few seconds and Matt is worried that Hawkins turned her down again.

“He agreed, Matt,” Sylvie giddily informs him.

Matt laughs, “that’s great! Tell me all about it.”

Matt sits on the porch listening to Sylvie narrate how their shift went and how Hawkins finally saw first hand the impact of having to respond to all the non emergency calls and frequent flyers. Thankfully, they didn’t need to witness another person get stabbed and flatline in front of them but one shift with 61 made the Paramedic Chief realize that change was indeed necessary.

“Mouch is helping me launch it,” Sylvie mentions.

Matt smiles. He knows Mouch and Sylvie have a special bond so he’s glad the older firefighter will be there to guide Sylvie along the way. “That’s really good to hear. Hopefully, I’ll be back to witness that.”

“Take your time. I know Griffin and Ben need you. This is peanuts compared to that,” Sylvie assures him.

Of course she would say that because Sylvie understands that some things are bigger than both of them but he’ll do everything he can to make his way back in time. He wouldn’t want to miss it.

“I can think of other ways we can celebrate when you get back, Captain,” Sylvie mentions, a hint of flirting in her tone.

Matt grins widely, “do tell.”

Matt spends the next thirty minutes chatting with Sylvie on the phone until Griffin comes out to grab him for breakfast.

#chicago fire #brettsey #fanfic prompt #the actual last prompt request

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watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

Text

Dreams, Chapter 4

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

If you have been reading this series....things are going to start happening....

Title: Dreams, Chapter 4

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3773

Summary: For Sam and the reader, a winter night working together leads to an uncomfortable confrontation and a confusing dream.

Warnings: angst, fluff?, alcohol, swearing, slow burn, I think that’s it!

The tree was still up a few days later when you were throwing together sandwiches. It was a gloomy afternoon, stealing from the already meager offering of sunlight you got each day, but at least you could see the Christmas lights as you worked in the little kitchen and listened to Me Talk Pretty One Day. Brushing crumbs off your hands, you ducked your head into the bedroom to tell Sam lunch was ready.

He was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed under him, looking surprisingly young with his long limbs folded. He glanced over at you briefly with a noncommittal nod before turning his gaze back to the wall. You walked into the room when you understood; following his eyes to the photos where you’d taped them up. Toeing off each of your boots, you climbed onto the mattress with him and gently put your arm around his broad shoulders. “He would’ve loved this,” Sam murmured, and it was almost too low for you to hear.

“Which part?” you asked, trying to match his tone.

“This cabin, the bar, Christmas.”

“I think you’re right.”

You looked over at the pictures, a tight row intentionally placed a little too low so you could see them as you fell asleep. Sam tilted his head to rest on yours.

“We had a lot of fun though, didn’t we?”

You considered the memories and the heat coming off of him under your cold fingers. “Yeah, we did.” After a beat you opened your mouth again. “Getting that tree was fun.”

Sam pulled back and you looked up at him. A sad smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

You curved your head back into him. “Dean would’ve liked that too.” He was silent for a moment.

“There’s no way he would’ve worked at the bar and not made every night a party.”

He was right. Even just passing through, bars like the one you worked at were Dean’s favorite—no frills, honest people, décor not so nice it couldn’t tolerate some spills in the name of a good time. In the right mood Dean would’ve been everyone’s best friend in an hour, taking shots with the owners and playing pool with anyone who had a spare minute.

You sat upright and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Okay, then tonight’ll be a party.”

Sam looked at you in surprise. “Uh, what?”

“You heard me. Tonight, we’re doing tequila shots and dancing on tables and talking to people longer than to take their orders.”

“It’s a Monday.”

“Wouldn’t have stopped Dean. Now come eat this sandwich I slaved over, you’re a lightweight on an empty stomach.”

Sam’s smile was tired, but he obediently untangled his legs and got off the bed to head to the kitchen. You padded after him, letting a deep breath out through your nose. Dean would be so pissed if he saw you weren’t being strong for Sammy, just a little tougher, come on. By the time Sam sat down at the tiny breakfast bar to eat, you’d screwed your face back together.

In some ways, it was better that you’d had this sudden change of heart on a Monday, when there weren’t so many customers to watch you crumble if it came to that. You had a propensity for being a sad drunk even in the best circumstances, and this first time truly drinking around people since losing Dean was about the worst circumstance as you could imagine.

A few shots in Sam’s cheeks were flushed and you could feel the heat in yours as you sucked hard on a lime wedge. He was pretending to know about some football controversy with the over-shoulder towel that was ever present when he worked, his legs crossed and accentuating the long, relaxed line of his body. It was an especially cold night and condensation clouded the windows of the bar where hot air met the freezing glass. You watched as a woman about your age—you were pretty sure her name was Megan but had only served her a handful of times—traced lazy shapes in it before replacing the moisture with a hot breath and starting over. It was almost hypnotic and you didn’t know how long it was until you snapped back to reality when Sam’s warm hands wrapped over your shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, low and private, straight into your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just tired,” you lied.

Sam gently and half-consciously kneaded the muscles in your shoulders. Before you realized what you were doing, muscle memory bobbed your head to the side, kissed his rough knuckles, and pressed your cheek to his hand. You both froze.

“Aw, so cute,” Steve sang out from across the bar top.

You took your chance to step forward out of Sam’s grip. “Yeah, yeah. Refill?” Steve nodded, and you snatched another Miller High Life out of a mini fridge under the bar and popped the cap with a fluid practiced motion. About a week ago you’d realized that the twist-bottle callus you had just below the first joint of your index finger had come back, a recurrent souvenir that had lasted years after you’d quit bartending last time. You were thankful for it as much as the distraction from your bizarre reflexive step over the unspoken boundary between you and Sam. It wasn’t that the contact was unprecedented, obviously, you could only catch even chunks of sleep tightly wound around Sam and kept your fingers wrapped around his forearm as he drove, but Dean was the last person whose skin your lips had touched. Until now, you corrected yourself. It was a very specific kind of closeness in a relationship already stretching the limits of what appropriate intimacy could possibly be.

You jammed a cold metal scoop into the ice machine to break up chunks and buy some time. The same grief-hungry part of your brain that searched Sam for facial tics and habits that Dean had couldn’t stop repeating how much those hands felt the same, dry and warm and firm under your lips, under your cheek, and you wanted to clutch at them, a phantom of Dean’s that first stitched you up in Bobby’s kitchen all those years ago when life was easy and bloody, so nervous to touch you his hands shook and the scar still remained to this day. You crashed through those thoughts with a solid thump of This Is Sam Not Dean Sam Your Friend Sam The Only Thing You Have In This World, and how cruel it was to triple distill him down to only the parts that were reminiscent of someone else. Sam, who chopped wood to keep you warm, who restocked beer in the little life you’d created here. Sam, who in his own unfathomable sadness let you latch onto him as a steady point in a storm and kept you afloat just as you had him.

“Hello?” Joe repeated, a touch of concern peeking through his annoyance.

“Yeah, sorry! What’s up?” you asked, hearing the shrillness of your voice as you tried to overcompensate.

“I’m trying to buy you a drink, hon. 5 shots, dealer’s choice.”

“You, me, Jake, Steve and who?” you asked, racking up 5 sturdy shot glasses.

“Your Paul Bunyan over there, unless you’re trying to take his too. I’ve never seen you guys really drink before, gotta jump on my chance,” he winked.

“Oh, okay. Uh, Sam—” you called out across the bar. He was wiping up a spill you knew didn’t exist from the way he focused too hard on the bar top, trying to look busy. He looked up at his name and walked over with his hands jammed in his pockets. His unease was palpable, and your heart sank as you let go of any possibility that he wouldn’t have registered the fleeting kiss and the shift was only in your head. “—Joe’s trying to get you drunk.”

“Careful, Joe, you think you can carry me home?” Sam joked, and you thought you would be the only one who’d be able to detect the tightness in his throat underneath it. He rubbed a lime wedge on the web of his thumb and poured salt over it before handing you the shaker. You almost dropped it when your fingertips grazed his.

“To the only people dumb enough to move up here in the winter,” Steve proclaimed, touching his glass to the counter before shooting it. You all followed suit, politely chuckling at the teasing. When you took the lime wedge out of your mouth, Sam had his palm open in front of you. You dropped the rind in his hand and let him take the stack of glasses to the sink.

It didn’t get as crazy as Dean likely would’ve gotten which was probably good for the bar’s bottom line and your drive back to the cabin, but Sam did end up somewhat accidentally hustling Jake for $100 over a game of pool and singing along to Shania Twain when you put it on. You were careful not to touch him or stare too long the rest of the evening, and by the time you were flipping chairs up for the night you had almost convinced yourself that nothing was different save for a little softness around the edges of the ever-present bolus of sadness in your stomach.

Sam had two cases of Miller Lite from the basement in his grip, the veins on his forearms popping out as he set them on the ground in front of the beer cooler and crouched to replace the ones that had been drunk that night. You double checked that the cash drawer of the register was even and hopped up to sit on a spare spot of counter.

“That’s the last one?”

“Yeah, I already did the Coors and Bud.”

“Are you good to drive or do you want me to?” You wiggled your toes in your shoes, feeling the ache of standing for hours in the balls of your feet.

“No, I’m good to drive,” Sam said, shaking hair out of his face. He looked up at you, hazel eyes hard to read with fatigue or fear or pity or some murky combination thereof. You drew tight spirals over orders you’d taken that night, feeling the pen press impressions into the small notepad. The absence of words spread out to close the distance between you, feeling cloying and claustrophobic even as the Nate Bargatze standup you’d cued up piped out through the bar’s speakers.

“Hey, I—”

“Are you—” Sam started at the same time. You held out a palm to signal for him to continue, not truly wanting to speak yourself. “Uh, sorry. I just…I—I’m not Dean. I can’t be Dean.”

The words and deflation in his shoulders made you wish you’d been set ablaze. Stunned, you felt your mouth open and close around words that weren’t materializing, just collecting in your throat and hardening there, the backup starting to choke you.

“I, uh—I know,” you finally managed to squeak past the lump.

And part of you wondered if he was right in thinking you were using him as a stand-in. As atypical as the whole situation was, you couldn’t imagine that it was normal to sleep in the same bed and spend virtually every minute together. You began to feel sick at the thought that Sam would be out living up to his potential somewhere if it weren’t for you, back to law school or righting the wrongs of the world rather than in a Northwoods dive bar restocking domestic beers at 2:30 on a Tuesday morning. The selflessness of it seemed unfathomable and yet so entirely something Sam would do. Suddenly it felt like the walls were collapsing around you.

The moment stretched out and Sam stood up, leaning on the counter across the bar from you. His jaw was set hard and he tilted his head the way he did when he was trying to stop himself from teetering over the edge of tears. “Sam, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He cleared his throat but looked down at the nonstick mats on the floor. “No, ah, you don’t need to apologize. I just need you to know I can’t be him for you.”

You didn’t dare look up in case you met Sam’s eyes as you nodded, so eviscerated and humiliated you were having a hard time taking a deep breath. After a long minute you heard the clink of bottles as Sam finished restocking, grabbed your coat to mumble something about warming up the car, and went to the small parking lot. You managed to make it into the Impala before your vision started swimming and the potential enormity of the situation crashed against you; was this the end of your carved out hideaway, full of grief and memories and comfort and little moments of affection and joy you had just barely started to accept? All for some stupid thought that Dean would be happier if you were out getting wasted, an idea that reduced him to a drifter barfly instead of the complex man who’d been more loyal and loved more deeply than anyone you’d ever met. The tears dried up quickly as self-disgust rolled over you and started ringing in your ears. You didn’t hear Sam coming and jolted when he opened the door, recoiling against the passenger side to give him as much space as possible. He glanced over at you with eyes so pitying that you couldn’t bear to look at them, staring out the window at the abject darkness the rest of the drive home.

Sam didn’t turn on the stereo.

Back in the cabin, you quickly shucked off your coat and snatched what you needed out of the bedroom before barricading yourself in for a shower. You didn’t bother taking your makeup off first, allowing the sting of mascara to get washed away in the water. It was too hot and you didn’t care; you only came out when you realized you were going to leave Sam in a cold shower in the last week in December.

You brushed your teeth in the mirror and took a few deep breaths before sliding out, heading past the open bedroom door straight to the kitchen in order to gulp down a panicked glass of water. Mercifully, you heard the bathroom door lock when Sam entered it quietly. You took the opportunity to grab your pillow out of the bedroom, tossing it on the couch and pulling the throw off the sofa’s back to cover yourself. Your eyes were closed tight and ramming up against your racing mind when Sam came out.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he said softly from behind you.

You opened your eyes but didn’t move your head to seek him out. “It’s okay.”

Sam appeared in front of you, legs bending severely to perch on the short coffee table. His bare chest still glistened a little from the shower and you knew the green flannel pants he was wearing were soft and thick to the touch. Earnest hazel eyes meeting yours, Sam braced his elbows on his knees.

“Sam, I’m really sorry. It was a weird reflex and it was unfair for me to—”

“No, I, it—it wasn’t that. It’s just like, sometimes when you look at me, you look like you’re seeing a ghost. I’m just—I need to know you’re not staying here because I’m the closest you can get.”

If your heart hadn’t been shattered and re-shattered over the last almost- two-years and today, the fear and resignation in his eyes would’ve sent you to pieces. You pushed up to sitting in order to give Sam the respect he deserved.

“I can’t—I won’t lie and say you don’t remind me of him, but you’re my best friend—been my best friend since I first met you guys—and I am so, so, sorry I made you feel…I could never try to replace him, Sam.” You were barely making sense, having a hard time stringing together how you felt. “The only place I want to be is with you. You’re all I’ve got.”

It felt desperate and needy but it was true and Sam deserved the truth. You didn’t shy away from him, stayed there holding his gaze until he seemed content having searched your eyes for anything hiding from the light. After a moment he nodded tightly against lips pressed in a firm line. “Okay.”

Sam stood up, the broad planes of him catching the glitter of the Christmas tree lights. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and tentative. “Can you, uh, can you come back?”

It took a moment to process before you nodded, standing up and snagging your pillow before following Sam into the bedroom. You climbed into your side of the mattress, close to the wall and your tiny precious gallery, and Sam folded around you, his warm skin seeping through your t-shirt onto your back. You felt tense and comfortable all at once, safe and uneasy. The two of you sat there for a long time, the relatively light weight of Sam’s arm over you betraying that he wasn’t asleep either. When drowsiness finally began to tug your eyelids closed, he pressed his lips to a spot on your shoulder exposed from the looseness of its sleeve. The last thing you remembered was his arm going heavy like an anchor across yours.

The sun is hot and delicious on your cheeks, baking the cotton of your jeans and t-shirt into you and turning the roof tiles under you into a frying pan. Wispy clouds move with no urgency across the sky above you and you can’t think of anything better than this, glancing down to worn laces on Dean’s boots undone to give his feet some air as his t-shirt clings half-humid to him. You know his freckles are going to be darker by dinner and it makes you smile to think about it but you’ll never tell him—it makes him shy to be reminded of the spray of pigment that makes him feel alternatively feminine or juvenile but never stunning the way you think it should. You press up to your elbows, barely registering the sting of heat and grit of the roof underneath you and kiss the spot on Dean’s arm where his shoulder slopes into his bicep. He smiles down at you, a lazy half-open smirk perfectly framed by the blue sky behind him like a painting.

“You’re so weird,” he chuckles. “Who kisses someone’s arm?”

“Then come down here,” you toss back, exaggerated pout ready for him. He ducks down to you, the warmth of his lips on yours like a cookie fresh out of the oven, like sliding down the hallway on new fuzzy socks, like the summer’s first plunge into water.

Sam’s head peeks out from under the gutter. “Bobby’s putting brats on the grill, do you want any?”

“Hell yeah, extra onions,” Dean yells down, grinning smugly when you make a face.

“Me too!” you call out, watching Sam squint up at the roof.

“No onions though, right?”

“You’re the best, Sam.”

Sam beams up at you, dimples almost high enough to reach the squint-crinkled skin around his eyes. He nods and ducks back out of sight.

“Come on, I’m thirsty,” Dean says, standing up. He reaches a hand down to you and takes a half step back to brace himself, stepping on the lace of his other boot. He stumbles and it’s a quick shuffle and you realize he’s too close to the edge his next step is into thin air like Wil E. Coyote and you’re grabbing at that same thin air and you can see his face change when he realizes and some part of your subconscious that’s even deeper than this can feel it’s happening again and the sound is so final, such a wet crack but you scrabble to the edge anyway because you have to see and Dean’s lying there.

He’s clutching his left leg bent against his chest like a stretch. “Son of a bitch, what the fuck!” he mutter-yells, and you hear the thump of Sam and Bobby running through the old house and skittering to a stop in front of him as you carefully shimmy down the porch post with your hands tearing on the gutter’s rusty edge, jumping down when you feel the railing beneath you.

“Dean! Are you okay?” Sam yells over Bobby who’s cursing out the goddamn idjit told you not to climb up there it’s like having a bunch of teenagers in this goddamned house and Dean winces and nods angrily.

You’re lifting up the hem of his jeans and gingerly taking off his boot and Dean hisses when you peel off his sock, but nothing is poking through the skin and that’s better than you expected. “Can you stand up?”

He nods again and you can practically taste him biting back the string of expletives when you and Sam each take an arm and lift him to standing. You snake a hand into his pocket and grab the keys to the Impala, leaning behind Dean to say to his brother, “I’ll take him to the ER.”

Dean doesn’t argue and it’s yet more evidence that it’s pretty bad, but you feel fine, elated almost, that he’s still warm under your palm and against your side, that he still smells like fresh laundry and domestic beer and a little bit of salt and engine grease. Sam’s long arm opens the door when you get there and slides Dean in and you promise to text when you know how bad it is as you round the car and get to the driver’s side. You turn the key in the ignition and throw your arm around Dean’s seat to reverse out of the driveway. Dean’s looking at you as you throw the car back into drive, staring almost, and his face is soft even around the broken ankle.

“I’m always going to love you,” he says, smooth and sure of himself. You tug your eyes away from the road with half a question on your face but Dean doesn’t explain why he’s saying this now. “I’ll be okay and I’m always going to love you, no matter what.”

It doesn’t make any sense and you open your mouth to tease this unexpected sappiness, remind him the ankle is just one more in a long string of injuries he’ll owe you for, and then Dean’s gone, the car’s gone, and the heat is coming from Sam’s chest in front of you.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 5

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years ago

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 18

I’ll be switching point of views for this one so buckle your seat belts. I just hope I do the character’s justice because it’s been a minute since I watched the show. Also going to be changing the perspective because... My writing makes no sense and it probably never will.

--------------------

“I'm saying we need a new plan, because next time, one of us is going to be too hurt to heal.” Derek led Scott and I into the subway car in the middle of the abandoned depot. The unfortunate reality is that Jackson was no longer Jackson, and we only had one option left.

Scott sighed, “Ugh, I get it. We can't save Jackson.”

Derek sat down on one of the seats, “We can't seem to kill him, either. I've seen a lot of things, Scott. I've never seen anything like this. Every new moon's just gonna make him stronger.” He said grimly.

“But how do we stop him?”

“I don't know. I don't even know if we can.” He shrugged, sounding defeated. I could imagine how he felt, powerful but so helpless.

“Maybe we should just let the Argents handle it...” He suggested.

“I don’t know if they could help.” I crossed my arms over my chest, “Chris filled him with lead and it didn’t stop him. I don’t think they could handle it either.”

“I'm the one who turned him. It's my fault.” Derek let his head hang.

“That’s not true.” I looked at him sternly.

“You didn't turn him into this! I mean, this happened because of something in his past, right?” Scott asked.

Derek scoffed, “That's a legend in a book. It's not that simple.”

“What do you mean? What aren't you telling me?”

“Why do you think I'm always keeping something from you?” He looked up at Scott.

“Because you always are keeping something from me!”

“Well, maybe I do it to protect you. Both of you.”

“Doesn't being part of your pack mean no more secrets?”

Derek sighed, looking down at his hands, “Go home, Scott. Sleep. Heal. Make sure your friends are safe... 'Cause the full moon's coming, and with the way things are going, I've got a feeling it's gonna be a rough one.” Scott left with a huff, leaving Derek and I alone.

“Der...” I said softly, running my fingers through his dark hair. He closed his eyes, humming softly.

“You can’t blame yourself, you could have never imagined what could have happened.”

“I thought there was something wrong with my bite.” His voice was barely audible, “Something wrong with me.”

“No, no, no.” Kneeling down, I cupped his cheeks in my hands, “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.”

“You have to say that. I’m your mate.”

I only cringed a little at his use of the word “mate” unironically, “That’s not true. I give you criticism at any chance I get. But that’s mostly because you keep turning kids into soldiers.”

“I guess you’re right.” His lips turned up slightly, “You’re like my conscience, but a lot better looking than this mug.” He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. Grinning, I kissed his nose and stood up.

“I gotta get home, make sure everyone’s alright. I’ll see you later.” I winked, making my way out of the depot.

I got home late, but not any later than the usual lately. As soon as I closed the door, I saw Uncle Noah at the kitchen table. He was pouring whiskey into a glass, probably wasn’t his wish. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept or showered in a while. Walking quietly, I placed my hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He looked up at me slowly, blinking his pale green eyes at me.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, (Your Mom’s Name).” He said, “(Y/N) is so distant and she won’t talk to me anymore.” I was told once or twice that I resembled my mother, but in his drunkenness, he must have thought I was her.

“I mean, hell... She was dating someone for months and she didn’t even tell me. Sure, he was a person of interest... But he was also her friend.”

Smiling softly, I guided him to a standing position, “No, Noah, she’s just going through a lot right now. She’s still learning and growing. And you’re doing the best job you can and she loves you for it.” I helped him to his room and into bed.

“Goodnight, (Y/M/N).” He yawned, pulling the covers over himself and closing his eyes.

“Goodnight, Noah.” I said, closing the door behind me. I took a deep breath and went down the hall to Stiles’ room. He was sleeping away in the most ridiculous position possible, having fought off a kanima and saving his friend from death. I was just happy to see him there, alive and breathing.

“Goodnight, Stiles.” I whispered, closing his door all the way.

It was the night of the full moon and my body was already feeling the effects of it. But since my self training/ anger management was doing well, Derek gave a hesitant okay for working with Scott’s Scooby Gang to keep a look out at Lydia’s birthday party. Derek and I had the betas in the railway car in the depot. He was looking through his family’s chest again.

“What is that?” Isaac asked, looking quizzically at the symbol on the box.

“It’s a triskele.” Boyd said, “The spirals mean different things: past, present, future; mother, father, child.”

“Do you know what it means to me?” Derek asked.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega?”

“That’s right. It’s a spiral, it reminds us that we can rise to one.”

“And fall to another.” I finished. It was one of the few things I remembered word for word from the research we did back when Derek was cousin Miguel.

“Betas can become Alpha, but Alphas can fall to Betas, or even Omegas.” Derek said, continuing to look through the box.

“Like Scott?” Isaac asked.

“Scott’s with us.”

“Really?” Isaac’s voice held just a touch of sarcasm, “Then where is he now?”

“They’re looking for Jackson.” He looked pointedly at me, then back to the group, “Don’t worry, they’re not gonna have it easy either. None of us will. There’s a price you pay for this kind of power. You get the ability to heal” He handed a leather belt connected to a chain to Isaac, “But tonight, you’re gonna want to kill anything you can find.”

“Good thing I had my period last week then.” Erica chuckled. Derek pulled a metal crown from the box, there were screws turned inwards towards where someone’s head would be.

“Well, this one's for you.” Erica’s face immediately changed. Beeping made me look down at my phone.

Stiles:

2006 Swim Team - Lahey was the Coach.

“That’s my cue to leave.” I shoved my phone in my pocket and backed out of the open door, heading out into the open depot.

“Wait.” Derek called after me, catching me before leaving out the door in my car that was finally back from the shop.

“Yes?” I sing-songed, turning around to face him.

“I wanted to give you something.” He said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, “You have something from Stiles but you should have something from me. Something that means... More.” From his pocket he produced a silver ring, it had a twisted band towards the top with a triskele cut out of the metal.

I started down at the ring in shock, “Is... Is this a proposal?” His eyes widened.

“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut, “I mean, not yet. This... This is a promise. For both of us. You uh, could wear it on your ring finger if you want though-That is if you want it-” I silenced his babbling with my lips.

“I love it.” I smiled, taking the ring and sliding it on my left ring finger. It fit surprisingly, “Thank you.”

“Tonight... I’m probably going to get hurt. Just try to block it out as much as you can.”

“Sounds good. I love you.” I cupped his cheek.

“I love you.” He smiled. My hand slipped from his cheek and I made my way out of the depot.

I parked outside of Lydia’s house and I was actually able to park in her driveway. From what I remember, Lydia’s parties, especially her birthday parties, were supposed to be insane and packed. Yet, I could only see Roscoe. Which meant that Stiles was finally invited. Good for him. I knocked on the front door and waited, slipping my hands into my jacket pockets.

The door opened, revealing Lydia who was vaguely confused by my being at her door. She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at me.

“Sarah?”

“(Y/N).” I corrected her.

“Oh. Well, come in.” She opened the door further, revealing the tray of pink cocktails in her hand, “Have a drink.” I grabbed a pink drink from the tray and cheered it towards her as I went inside, going straight to the back where Scott, Stiles and Allison were sitting on the deck of the pool.

“Is this... everyone?” I asked, sitting besides Stiles in a lawn chair.

"Maybe it's just early?" Scott said, not believing it himself.

Stiles said grimly, "Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia turned into the town whack job."

"Well, we have to do something because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks..." Allison said.

"She's completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years." Scott pointed out.

"I prefer to think of it as I haven't been on her radar." Stiles said in an offended tone.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I patted his shoulder.

Scott sighed, “We don't owe her a party.”

“What about the chance to get back to normal?” Allison crossed her arms over her chest.

“Normal?”

She shrugged, “She wouldn't be the "town whackjob" if it wasn't for us.”

Scott nodded, “I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here...”

I pulled out my phone, “I could pull some strings with some people from my year.” I found the group text I had gotten from when I had been abducted, typing in Lydia’s address and the promise of a party and booze.

“Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, really going.” Stiles said, looking down at his phone. He was looking through his contacts, finding: Drag Queen from Jungle.

“Who?” She asked.

“I met them the other night... Let's just say, they know how to party.” He sent off the text then looked over at me.

“What is that?” He asked, motioning with his phone to my left hand.

“A ring. You know what those are, right?” I sipped my drink.

Stiles’ jaw clenched, looking towards the sidewalk, “You gonna marry him.”

“It’s not an engagement ring, it’s a promise ring.”

“Whatever.” He got up, walking inside. I avoided Scott and Allison’s awkward gaze and just took a large gulp of my drink.

In the next ten minutes, the amount of people who showed up was pretty astounding. Town whack job or not, promise people booze and they will come. Walking through the crowd, I saw people that I used to hang around with. A lot of people gave their condolences, lots of staring, sad smiles, but that’s how it was.

“A little jumpy are we, Jackson?” I took a sip out of my drink.

While walking through it hit me - shitty, over priced cologne. And possibly, a terrible attitude. And lizard. I turned quickly and saw Jackson. He was startled by my sudden movement.

He narrowed his eyes at me, then looked away, “I don’t have to explain myself to someone who makes minimum wage.”

"I would watch my back if I were you, (Y/L/N). Full moon makes me feel a certain way." I chuckled and looked down, craning my neck back up to flash him my red eyes.

“Maybe it’s because you’re not a disgusting lizard thing right now, but I could care less that you are trying to intimidate me. You don’t even know why you came here tonight, do you? You’re certainly not here for Lydia.”

It was my turn to narrow my eyes, “You don’t know why you’re here. So that means...” The puppeteer was here, “Good talk, gotta go.” As I walked quickly, trying to find Scott or Stiles, I found Matt getting a drink from Lydia, but he really wasn’t looking at Lydia. He had his eyes trained on Allison and the way he wasn’t looking at her reminded me of the night Michael took me. I didn’t like Allison at the best of times considering she shot me and all, but this was too much to ignore. As I walked towards Matt I was halted, like my feet didn’t want to move from what I saw. Derek was standing by himself near the outside of the house. I walked up to him quickly.

“Derek, what are you doing here? Where are the others?” They couldn’t have transformed then transformed back by now, there was no way.

“There’s been something I’ve been thinking about.” He swirled the drink in his hand, the same drink everyone else had, “You have a habit of making people miserable or getting them killed.”

“Excuse me?” I squinted at me, swallowing thickly. My throat felt dry and was it getting hotter?

“Think about it. Your parents think you’re too weak to keep your secret so they take your life from you, taking you from me. You’re the reason your parents are dead. You got Michael killed.” He stepped forward and with every step, I took one back, “I’m just wondering when it’s my turn to die or even Stiles.”

“Derek, I-” My eyes were watering.

“How about I kill Stiles for you? Save some blood for your hands. Or,” He chuckled, “Would you rather do it yourself.” He started to walk back towards the party. I grabbed his arm to stop him when he abruptly turned.

“You know what, I’ll just let you kill me. You can handle the rest on your own.” He grabbed my wrist and jerked it, my claws flicking out. I tried to pull my wrist away but his grip was too strong.

“No, stop!” I screamed as he slashed my claws across his throat, blood spraying across my face. Suddenly, Derek and blood were gone. All the party goers were going about their business, I was the only one who had seen Derek use my own hands to kill him. I looked over my hand and made sure the blood had been imagined. My eyes were then brought to the pink drink in my hand. This had to be the reason... Lydia spiked the drinks, but with what? I couldn’t even remember how many of these I had. To make matters worse, my stomach got super queasy-

I turned to the bushes and threw up everything that I had eaten that day. If I didn’t feel great, it was worse now. I got a few disgusted looks but that was the least of my problems. I dumped my drink in the bushes and started to stumble forward, looking to find Scott or Stiles. Thinking about it now, my mouth was starting to get itchy which was possibly the worst possible feeling to add onto everything else. I went into the house and upstairs, finding Matt groaning on the floor and Allison rushing passed me.

“Matt?” I asked, helping him off the ground, “What happened to you?” Once on his feet, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Allison happened. She put me flat on my ass.” Probably with good reason.

He squinted at me, “Are you alright?” I shook my head.

“Not really. You got gum or something, that drink left the worst taste in my mouth.”

“No,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a white pill bottle, “But I have some pain meds.”

“That’ll work.” I took the bottle then looked behind me, grabbing a water bottle out of someone’s hands.

“Hey!” The person glared. I glared right back, “Not the time, freshman.” This seemed to scare him enough for the kid to walk away. I opened the bottle and popped the blue capsule in my mouth and chased it with what was not water but actually vodka.

“Jesus!” I spat to the side, “What is wrong with people?” I looked at the bottle, realizing that it had no label.

“Hey, what was that? Tylenol? Ibuprofen?”

Matt smiled, “Mistletoe actually.” I blinked at him, my heart dropping into my stomach.

“What?”

“Mistletoe.” He chuckled, “That’s supposed to knock you guys out, right?” I took a step back and hit the doorframe, already feeling the effects of the poison in my system.

“Using Jackson to kill my murderers is good, but I need protection. You protected me once. From Lahey. And you’re gonna protect me again, whether you like it or not.”

SCOTT

Scott pushed through the crowd, asking anyone who would listen if they had seen Lydia. The drinks she had made had been spiked to create hallucinations. We had to find out why. She spiked the punch with wolfsbane petals which seemed to cause Stiles and Allison to hallucinate too.

Outside, Stiles ran up to Scott, “Hey, I can't find her. And dude? Anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out.” They watched two people cannonball into Lydia’s pool with all their clothes on.

“...I can see that.”

“What the hell do we do?”

“I don't know, but we gotta-”

“I can't swim!” Both their heads turned. Matt was being carried by three people, he was flailing and panicking, “No, no, no, no, stop, guys! I can't swim! I can't swim! I can't-I can't-” The partiers didn’t listen, throwing him into the pool. He went under immediately. And to their surprise, Jackson and (Y/N) ran to the poolside and both pulled him out.

Once on the pool deck, (Y/N) got Matt on his side, helping him cough up any water he swallowed. They both helped him to stand. Everyone was staring at that point.

“...What are you looking at?” Matt barked at the gawking crowd. Jackson took the time to make his exit. (Y/N) walked towards Scott and Stiles, Matt close behind her.

“Move.” She growled, flashing her bright red eyes. The two parted, letting (Y/N) and Matt through. Immediately after, a siren cut through the air.

“COPS ARE HERE!” Someone in the crowd shouted, causing the party goers to scatter. Scott and Stiles followed the ground out and onto the street. Scott looked down the street and saw them. Matt was standing in front of his car, dripping wet and seething with rage. Jackson in his kanima form was in front of him on all fours and (Y/N) stood at his right, claws out and fangs bared. He’d been under their noses for so long but now that they know, that meant they were in danger, all of them.

----------------

Read Part 19 here!

Who needs a point a view when you’re under mind control, ammi right?

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#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fic

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kyber-crystal · 4 years ago

Text

Unspoken Words

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 4.2k (I POPPED OFF LOLLLLL)

Summary: In which the night before being deployed on a covert black-ops mission overseas with Natasha, you write Steve a secret love letter that you never intended to give him. But, it still ends up falling into his hands.

Warnings: fluff, soft angst, cute steve hehe

A/N: once again, shamelessly stole this idea from the kdrama im watching adsfasdf

To Steve.

You always told me it was time I found someone who cared for me just as much as I cared about others. For the longest time, I had myself believing I was set for life since I already had the team. That I didn’t need to find a man to sweep me off my feet and take his last name, to have as my own, as every time I seemed to let my feelings wander astray, it’d end in tragedy.

After waiting for too long to say this, I guess I'm gonna come clean now, so brace yourself. I felt as if this would be easier for me if I was saying it on paper rather than in person, so here you go.

I realized I'm in love with you. You never leave my mind. You're always there, mentally, if not physically. It's hard for you to comprehend all at once, I know, it's hard for me to wrap my mind around, too. It still feels unreal that I'm actually admitting all this to you. I could've sworn I'd only acted this way in my dreams, but hey, reality can sometimes come up behind you and slap you in the face, you know?

In the middle of the storm, a war that rages on in my mind, you’re my safe haven. You’re the gentle center who keeps me steady and prevents me from teetering over the edge and losing my grip on reality. You keep me centered, and I don’t know what I’d do without you by my side. Steven Grant Rogers, I’m in love with you. I know, it doesn’t seem real. As crazy as it sounds, I’m hopelessly in love with you.

Steve, you are my one stability in a chaos-ridden world and I thank you endlessly for that. I so desperately needed something to hold onto, something to convince me I was still alive and breathing and somewhat sane. It's hard for me, it's hard that only today I've accepted the feelings I'd been harboring inside for years. But I've decided to admit defeat and admit I've officially fallen in love with you. Because what I'm beginning to feel now is far too strong for me to ignore; it's impossible to keep up this act when you're all I can seem to think about.

It's all strange, honestly. The feeling of butterflies flying around my stomach and tickling my insides makes me feel as if I'm up in the sky, my head in the clouds, but it also overwhelms me and makes me scared at the same time. The fact that I'm in so deeply in love scares me because I know when I'm really in love with someone, it's hard to escape once I've completed the act of falling for them.

Weird, right? Who knew the great Y/N was so capable of being a romantic sap?

It feels dangerous yet completely safe at the same time, as if someone's given me peace and my heart is dancing around in my chest because it's so happy, at the same time there is a Captain America-shaped hole there in the center that I was never aware was there in the beginning. My chest aches at the thought of having to leave you or you not reciprocating my feelings, but I know I might just suffer that fate, since the world as I know it, isn't kind whatsoever. I should know this better than anyone, after fighting countless battles.

It scares me more than excites me, how you can go from being really close friends to then being completely infatuated and in love with them and wondering how you were ever able to go on with your daily life without them, because I sure as hell can't imagine that now. In the beginning, I told myself it's not right, I still had so much of my life ahead of me, so much time to plan out what I'm going to end up like in the future but my brain is screaming no, no, it is right, it's meant to be.

The team tries convincing me to do something about it but I'm terrified. Terrified that I'll have to bring down the thick and heavy walls I spent so much time building up in the fears of being hurt and damaged and my heart shattered to a million jagged pieces.

I know most people would consider me to be foolish and naïve for spilling my feelings through a sappy love letter, but it's true when I say I love you so much more than I could ever love myself. You're my best friend, and as cheesy as it sounds, you are my everything. My anchor.

I fell for you all on my own. Not because I was pressured to or anything, but because I made the decision myself. I don't just give my heart to you by default as if there's no one else available for me to open up to. It's because I choose to. Every day that I wake up, every day we're fighting for our lives or fighting each other or going about a normal day or whatever, I'll keep choosing you over and over again, and I hope someday you'll do the same.

I love you more than you know. And if you don't feel the same way, then it's perfectly fine. I understand, and I'll wait for you as long as it takes, no matter what.

Whatever it takes.

Y/N

You let out a long sigh and set down your pen, folding the paper up into fourths and tucking it under your lamp before pushing yourself away from your desk and standing up, stretching your arms in the air. What even was the point of doing that, anyways? It’s not like Steve’s just going to come in here and read the letter.

The downside of living with the Avengers was that word got around very quickly, especially about your love life. There was no hiding anything from anyone, as they’d find out one way or another. If Tony didn’t find out first, it was Natasha, Sam, or Bucky who did.

“Hey, Nat,” you spoke without turning your head to look at who was behind you, knowing your red-headed best friend was leaning against the doorframe, observing you carefully.

“Y/N,” Natasha nodded and made her way inside, sitting at the edge of your bed and you took a seat next to her, as she rested her head on your shoulder. “You alright? I can tell something’s on your mind.”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Something tells me you’re not.”

“Did Wanda read my mind for you?” you raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“No, she didn’t,” she replied honestly, “she’s busy baking cookies with Vis and Peter right now. You think you wanna tell me what’s up? As your best friend, I’m obligated to know what’s going on.”

You closed your eyes and let out a long sigh. "You know what it is."

"You mean who?"

"Why am I letting this happen to myself?"

"You can't control who you fall for,," she explained. "Your heart sometimes just has a mind of its' own."

“He’s Captain America,” you deadpanned.

“And you’re the badass Y/N!”

“I shouldn’t even have feelings in the first place. And I shouldn't have written that love letter that I won't even give him anyways, or...you know."

"You wrote him a letter?"

You got up and tugged the letter from underneath your lamp and gave it to her, watching as her eyes scanned over the paper with your tidy, typewriter-like handwriting filling the sheet from top to bottom.

"So..."

Natasha handed the paper back to you. "Why can't you just tell him?"

"Because he doesn’t like me back."

"You should tell him at some point. Keeping this all to yourself isn't healthy."

"You sound like Tony."

She chuckled lightly. "What?It's the truth."

"Fine," you threw your hands up in the air in defeat, "I’ll consider telling him after we get back from Kyiv. I’m only considering it. And if I do confess...will you take me out for shawarma? Bucky took me last time and I barely got to eat anything because he stole most of my food."

"Alright, I promise," she laughed. "You got a deal."

...

SHIELD was always taking advantage of your almost unparalleled skill in the art of covert espionage and hand to hand combat and sending you off. Normally, it would last no longer than a few days or weeks at a time, so to hear that you'd be gone for four whole months made Steve feel sick to his stomach. He was dreading having to watch you leave, because it would mean spending the next third of a year by himself, without being able to see your face or your smile or simply have you around for some good company.

You pulled him aside after dinner one night to tell him the news.

"Nat and I were called in by Fury early this morning. We're being deployed to eastern Europe to stop a nuclear missile launch."

"How long will you be gone?" He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible, but it was a dead giveaway that he didn't want you to go at all.

"Well...if things go right, 3-4 months."

"And if doesn't?"

"Six, maybe seven."

Steve felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at your answer. "Why is it gonna take so long?"

"I don't know," you sighed, "just trying getting in and out isn't a very short process. We have to maintain low profile for a while before we infiltrate the base. If we're discovered too early on...then...well, we're basically screwed."

"Oh."

"Hey, I'm going to be fine, if that's what you're so worried about," you took his hand in yours and squeezed it tightly, "I know you're thinking I can't handle this, but I can. Nat and I are gonna look out for each other. I promise I'll be okay."

"When are you leaving?"

"First thing in the morning. We gotta go at four."

You didn't have to add on another sentence to tell him it meant you were unable to say goodbye to anyone. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to ignore that weird feeling in his chest as you kept holding his hand, not letting go even when you had the chance to.

Later that night, you were able to get five hours of sleep before Natasha came in to wake you up and you got ready. When she noticed how your eyes had lost the light to them and your shoulders slumped as you boarded the jet, she knew something was up.

Guilt clawed at your insides. You should’ve told him you loved him before you left, you idiot. What if you don’t make it back alive? Hm?

A set of footsteps echoing across the hangar bay suddenly made you turn around. You turned around to see Steve, jogging towards you and calling out your name. Knowing it was only a matter of minutes before you finished boarding and took off for a mission thousands of miles away, with very little ways of communication as you were supposed to be as discreet as possible when undercover, he didn't want you to leave without saying goodbye.

A mix of surprise and relief is on your face when you see him. You shake your head and give him a reassuring look, that everything was going to be okay and you'd be just fine.

"What are you doing here? You should be sleeping," your brows furrowed together in confusion as you unloaded your weapons, tying up your combat boots. "I thought you—"

Steve quickly comes forward and crushes you into a tight embrace that tells you he's going to miss you much more than he's letting on. You were quick to return the gesture, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing him back, resting your head against his broad chest.

"Stay safe out there," he murmured into your hair, pressing a light, fleeting kiss to the top of your hair.

You don't question his sudden act of sentiment, and just gave him a small smile in response. "Don't worry. I will."

With that, you turned around, stepping back up the ramp with Natasha. The gates to the hangar bay slid open, and within seconds you had taken off.

Steve stands there for a while even after the Quinjet is out of his sight, and it's only when Bucky pulls him back inside that he realizes he's been standing there for over an hour without moving at all.

The first few weeks pass by in a blur. He hardly eats, he hardly sleeps, he hardly even gets up for his morning runs or trains at all. After the first two months came and went, Tony grew rather concerned seeing him deteriorate and decided to ask him what was going on.

"Tony, I'm fine."

"Like hell you are. What's up with you? You haven't eaten a solid meal in over two months. You've lost some weight around your face, you almost look like a skeleton. When you haven't gone on your morning runs in forever, I should have a reason to be worried about you, Cap."

"It's been five weeks and she hasn't checked in with us yet," he stated plainly, gulping down his third cup of coffee of the day. "She should've called a week ago."

"God, I never thought you'd be the one to get so worked up over a girl," the billionaire let out a long sigh, pouring himself a cup of coffee as well at the kitchen counter before taking a seat at the island next to him, "but here we are now."

"What if she got injured?"

"Her and Nat are looking out for each other. I'm sure she's fine. She's going to be okay, so why don't you eat something solid for once? Tell me what you wanna order, I'll get it for you."

Thanks, Tony. I'll take Thai." (You and Steve often ate Thai takeout together.)

"Anytime."

Way over in Ukraine, you and Natasha were sitting on the bed in your hotel room watching the news on TV in silence because neither one of you felt like sleeping yet, until she decided to speak up.

"Why haven't you called Rogers yet?"

"I...don't know."

"He's gotta be missing you like hell, you know."

"I know. And I miss him too...a bit too much. That's why I can't call him. Because every time I hear his voice or see something that reminds me of him, it makes me fall even more in love with him and I can't afford having that. I don't want to risk getting hurt. Besides...I already summoned every last ounce of willpower to write that letter."

"You really should give him a call. It's not doing your heart any good to purposely drain yourself of him."

"Fine."

Steve had somehow allowed himself to get roped into a Mario Kart showdown with Bucky and Sam, when his phone suddenly lit up with a familiar number he could recognize anywhere. Your contact picture filled up the screen: you grinning wildly as his arms wrapped around you from behind, Pietro photobombing in the back as he made heart signs with his hands.

He picked up the phone and answered it after only one ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Steve," you spoke over the phone, "how's it going?"

"Hey," he couldn't help but break into a smile, "are you alright?"

"Yeah. We got the data files downloaded onto the flash drive and then destroyed it yesterday. So for now, we're just waiting around and maybe doing some tours of Kyiv while we have time."

"What time is it over there?"

"Half past midnight. You?"

"2:30."

"How are you holding up?"

Bucky and Sam looked over at that exact moment, wiggling their eyebrows up and down as they gestured for Steve to say something. "I'm doing fine. Got pulled into a Mario Kart deathmatch with the two idiots."

"Tell Bucky and Sam I send my regards and that I'm bringing back those baguettes I promised for when we stop over in Paris," you told him.

"I will. It's good to hear your voice, Y/N."

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at those words. "It's good to hear your voice, too. Look, I'm sorry...but it's getting late, and my data on my phone is low, Fury didn't give me an unlimited plan so I gotta go now. See you soon."

"Okay. Try to get some good sleep, alright? I don't want you getting hurt because you didn't get a good night's rest the night before. See you."

"COME ON, MAN!" Sam yelled as soon as you hung up. "You didn't even have the decency to say 'I love you?'"

"I love her, but not like that."

"Sure you don't. I saw the way your face lit up when you picked up the phone."

"Two months," the super-soldier let out a sigh of disappointment, setting down the controller to watch him and Bucky tear each other apart on Rainbow Road, "two more months."

He picked up his phone again and clicked on his camera roll, mindlessly beginning to scroll through until one picture caught his eye. It was during summer break when you were vacationing in the Bahamas for two weeks along with several SHIELD agents, and Coulson had taken the team picture. Fury had somehow been convinced to come along as well.

As his eyes scanned all the faces in the picture, he came across himself and noticed that he wasn't smiling at the camera, but at you instead, and you were doing the same. Both of you, gazing into each others' eyes as if the two of you were the only people left on Earth.

He felt a pang in his chest as he realized, at that moment, that he was in love with you and hadn't gotten the chance to tell you so before you left. And now, it could be too late.

The letter ends up reaching Steve much faster than you'd anticipated it to. The next day, he went to drop off the sweatshirt you left in his room last time you’d had a movie night together and comes across a single sheet of paper lying out on your desk.

All the color quickly drains from his face when he realizes this wasn't actually meant for him to read. He knows what he'd just done was wrong, but the fact that he was so oblivious to how you felt about him makes him feel even worse.

...

The mission had gone extremely well. You and Natasha were in and out of that base probably faster than you could summon Tony after yelling out that one of his suits had been tampered with.

Natasha thought it'd be fun to surprise him by coming back a month early and could tell instantly that you loved the idea, judging by the way your eyes lit up when you boarded the Quinjet.

You decided to call him again on the flight back as she sat at the front piloting the jet.

"Steve?"

"Hey. What's up?"

"Uh...I'm afraid there's been a change of plans."

"What plans?" His voice quickly grew worried as he tried masking his disappointment at the fact that you weren't announcing your return.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, I'm sorry, but...I just wanted to call you to update you on what's happening. Signal's not very good up here, Nat and I are flying out again so I'll call you when we touch down."

"Okay. Talk to you in a bit."

After making a quick pit stop at a bakery in Paris, you were up in the skies again, zipping back towards the Avengers HQs where the rest of the team was waiting.

"You know, I think Rogers is in love with you," Natasha gave you a knowing look as you touched down.

"What makes you think that?"

"When you guys were going after Bucky...I think that's when it all happened."

"But that was several years ago?"

"Exactly."

You unbuckled your seatbelts and stood up, picking up your duffel bags as the opening gates dropped down and you stepped off the ramp to an awaiting Bucky, Sam, Clint and Peter.

"Y/N!" Peter rushed forward, squeezing you in a tight hug. "Hi! You're home early!"

"Yeah, I am," you grinned ruffling his hair as you pulled apart. "You make sure Bucky and Sam didn't misbehave?"

Sam shot you a glare as Peter replied. "Well, they were alright. Happy dropped me off here yesterday and I monitored their Mario Kart matches to make sure nobody killed someone, so yeah. Clint was good too."

You went over to Bucky as Natasha went to talk to Sam and Clint about mission details."

"Y/L/N."

"Barnes."

"How was the flight?" His hard expression softened slight as he gave you a quick hug. "I heard everything went pretty well."

"Yeah, it was okay. A bit jet-lagged, but other than that I'm fine. And speaking of flight! I got you guys something."

You motioned for Nat to bring the box of pastries from the jet, and as soon as she did everyone's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Dude, you're the best," Sam exclaimed as he bit into an eclair. "I love Parisian pastries."

"We don't wanna be here too long, now do we?" Clint spoke up. "Y/N, I think you have a special someone to surprise inside."

"Oh?" you raised an eyebrow at the archer before following him and the others inside the compound.

Steve was busy reading a news article on his phone at the kitchen island, sitting there in a plain grey T-shirt and dark jeans when he looked up and met your gaze.

"Hey, soldier," you greeted with a smirk, "miss me?"

His face broke into a grin as he set his phone down. "You're back early."

"Fury was a bit more lenient this time," you shrugged, taking your hands out of your jacket pockets, "so he let us go. Since we got the job done pretty fast."

He chuckled lightly, pulling you close in response and wrapping his strong arms around you. "I'm glad you're back."

"So I take it you really missed me, huh."

"You could put it that way."

"Like hell he missed you. You should've seen him while you were gone, Christ," Sam groaned. "He wouldn't eat anything solid for an entire week."

"Oh!" Wanda piped up, "I believe he has something to tell you? Right, Steve?"

"No, I don't?"

"Uh, we'll leave now, then," Clint awkwardly cleared his throat. "Let's give these two a minute."

With that, they calmly filed out of the kitchen, leaving the two of you to yourselves.

"You look tired," Steve raised an eyebrow at you as he noticed the dark circles under your eyes.

"You look worse," you joked, earning a small laugh from him as you circled your arms around his torso. "I'm just a bit jet-lagged. The ten hour time difference wasn't very kind to me."

"Well, I'm glad you're back," he breathed out, "I missed you."

"Ah, there it is," you mumbled into his chest. "But yeah, I missed you too. And here I was starting to think Captain America didn't have the heart to care for someone so much."

"Only for you, Y/N," he chuckled, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, "only for you."

“Wait a second,” you pulled away and saw a familiar piece of paper sticking out of his jacket pocket, “what’s that?”

Your eyes widened as you pulled it out and realized it was the letter you’d written him several months back. “Oh shit...”

“Was I not supposed to read this?’

“NO!”

“It was addressed to me, though...?”

“I never meant for you to read it!” you hissed, “Now give it back!”

“Ah ah ah! I don’t think so.”

You let out an annoyed groan, going up on your tiptoes to try and snatch the paper out of his hand. “Screw you, Rogers. Why do you have to be so damn tall?”

You jumped up and down in an attempt to get the letter back for several minutes until you finally gave up, arms growing sore. When he towered half a foot above you, it was hopeless.

Your hands landed against his chest as you let them fall and you just stood there for a few seconds, or minutes, maybe, in utter silence, with his warm breath falling against your neck and you hated yourself for wanting this moment to last longer.

The air was suddenly buzzing with anticipation, like the world was holding its breath to see what was to come next. Steve’s gaze lingered on your lips before he tilted his head downwards, placing a hand on the small of your back and pulling you in for a kiss.

His lips met your own so softly, so gently that you swore that you were dreaming for a split second, and you let out a sigh as your arms slid around his waist and tightened their grip around him.

“In case I haven’t made it obvious enough, either,” he hummed, “I’m in love with you too.”

You felt heat rise up your cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to read that!”

“Too bad,” he smirked, resting his chin on your head, “I read it already, three times. You bet I’ll be keeping this for myself.”

“I hate you so much.”

“That’s not what the letter says.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Fine! I love you.”

Steve laughed lightly. “I love you too, Y/N.”

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